Confessions of a Serial Killer
by SoapyMayhem
Summary: HIATUS Edward is a hematologist by day and a serial killer by night. Sensing his dark tendencies at an early age, Carlisle molds Edward into a weapon for justice. Bella, a recovering alcoholic, wants to get to know the real Edward.
1. Prologue

**Edward Cullen: Confessions of a Serial Killer**

**~SoapyMayhem**

Thanks to my beta Twimarti for her superb help in getting this fic ready!

Disclaimer: Twilight, Dexter, and Night of the Hunter, are all publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning **This story is going to be very violent, and in a later chapter will have a non-sensational depiction of rape. Rated M for a reason.

* * *

**Edward Cullen: Confessions of a Serial Killer**

**Prologue **

****Edward Cullen****

_Blood_. _Sometimes it sets my teeth on edge; other times it helps me control the chaos. In those times it had always filled a void, and though only temporary, it was filled nonetheless._

Tonight I'm stalking Felix Hart- not my usual victim but definitely a monster, a child rapist.

This type of monster, while vile, is not included in The Code, and is therefore deemed to be punished by law. However, as of late, I've developed a slight weakness for hunting child predators. They are my only exception to The Code.

Rule number one is 'no innocent victims'. I know the rule is meant to only include murderers, but lately I've been interpreting it a bit loosely to include types like Felix. There are several reasons that have led me to loosen my criteria, but the most logical one was a recent study I'd read on the percentage of molested children that turn to crime and in particular- murder. I wanted to prevent that from happening. My kills had to serve a purpose, or they were just plain murder.

Though, monster I myself may be, I would never harm a child. In fact, I find myself to be quite protective and intrigued when I meet other people's children, most likely because of their purity and innocence. If I, a monster of the most horrific type, am thoroughly disgusted by the idea of harming a child, it would prove likely that most 'normal' people wouldn't be opposed to my planned disposal of Felix, and others like him. It was likely that, were I to have approached his victim's parents, I'd even be paid for my services. Money, however, had nothing to do with why I would be killing Felix this evening.

I rarely ever feel the need for any kind of justice in my kills. Most are to satisfy The Code as well as my own figurative thirst for blood. Tonight I will sate both.

Rule number two of The Code is to 'always be sure'. I have my ways, as evidence is frequently laid at my fingertips. The killers that manage to fall through the cracks of the justice system, or those who are released because _somehow_ the evidence was contaminated or destroyed- they are my prey.

^*!*^

Tonight I'm in Seattle, outside of an apartment complex at the end of a cul-de-sac. My heart is steadily beating and my nostrils are filled with the vile stench of a week's worth of trash that is wafting through the open dumpster I'm hiding behind. I ignore it. My eyes focus on the lights shining from a dimly lit apartment on the second floor, just waiting for them to darken. My pulse quickens, and a slow grin creeps up onto my lips in anticipation of capturing my prey. This is my second favorite part of the hunt.

As the lights go out and the curtains are drawn, I crouch more comfortably knowing that I won't have to wait long for Felix to doze off.

^*!*^

Thirty-four minutes later, I'm at the edge of his bed with my syringe of M99; in laymen's terms- animal tranquilizer. My dosage, when injected directly into the neck or chest, renders my victim unconscious within 3 seconds. There's barely enough time for it to elicit a defensive reaction, especially when combined with the surprise of being stuck with a needle.

He hears me, but it's too late. Seconds later, his fear stricken face relaxes under the deep slumber induced by the M99. I have nearly an hour and a half to get him to the kill room, more than enough time.

When possible, I try to find symbolism when choosing my location. Hence, the reason why this evening's kill room is set in the karate studio in which Felix instructs. It is in all likelihood where he has committed most of his atrocities.

He is quite a large bastard, muscular and tall, but I am strong enough. I haul his limp body through the rear entry of the studio and prepare him for my slab.

I am nothing if not meticulous, obsessive even, when it comes to the preparation of a kill room. The Code doesn't allow for anything less.

My second most favorite tool is plastic sheeting. Earlier this evening, I completely surrounded the room, covering every inch, and overlapped the edges to ensure maximum protection from splatters of evidence. Felix is not exempt from the same treatment I've given the room. So now that I have him stripped and wrapped in plastic like a human burrito, I wait. It should only take 5-10 more minutes for him to wake.

I take out my phone and send a few quick texts, chuckle at a joke my brother has sent me, and then respond to a few work related emails.

"W-Where am I?" he whispers groggily.

_Ahh, finally._

"Don't you recognize your place of employment Felix? Hmm, probably not, I don't suppose you've ever seen it covered in plastic," I answer coldly.

"What are you going to do to me?" he speaks shakily.

"How ironic, I bet all the children you've fucked asked you the exact same question," I spit in disgust.

Tonight I'm not interested in listening to his pleas of mercy, so I force a few wads of cotton balls into his mouth to stifle the irritating noise. From here on Felix will listen to me. I flick on a shop light in the darkened room to reveal a series of photographs. I present him with four photos showing images of the children I know he attacked. In all likelihood there have been more, but more importantly, these are his last. The look of horror on his face reveals that the reminders I've given are enough to get my point across. His eyes scrunch shut and a few tears spill out.

I reverently remove the tools from my bag; a scalpel, pipette, glass slide, a bone saw, a meat cleaver, and my personal favorite, a large serrated hunting knife.

A muffled shriek erupts from his chest as I slice into his cheek with my scalpel, and with surgical precision, I might add. The cut is an inch in length and provides plenty of blood for my pipette to place on my slide. I press the glass pieces together and watch in fascination while the tiny drop is flattened into a circular shape, as it does every time. I consider it a souvenir or trophy, if you will.

With my trophy now set aside, I ready my blade for my favorite part of the hunt. I cock my head in concentration and carefully finger the cold sharp edges, making sure to avoid cutting myself. I stand over Felix's shaking form in his plastic shroud and position my blade high above his head. I look directly into his eyes wondering if he will be able to keep them open all the way to the end. I doubt that he will, very few have.

I move to plunge the blade into his furiously beating heart, when I feel it. The strong vibration against my thigh breaks my concentration. I lay the knife down, and remove my phone from the pocket of my jeans. The photo on my caller ID elicits a crooked grin.

I turn my attention back to Felix, "Excuse me Felix, I have to take this. Don't worry though, I won't forget about you," I smirk.

"Hello, sweetheart, everything okay?" I ask a bit anxiously.

"Hey, baby. Yeah, everything's fine. I know you're busy, but I was just about to put our daughter to sleep, and then she cried for Daddy to sing her lullaby," she replied wistfully. There was nothing I could deny my beautiful wife and daughter, so I relented.

"Sure, sweetie, I've got time," I looked over at Felix and grinned, a menacing smile. There was a bit of a rustling sound as the phone was passed to my 3 year old little girl.

"Daddy?" a little voice cooed sleepily from the phone.

"Hey, angel, I'm sorry that I'm not there to tuck you in. I miss you," I say sweetly.

"It's okay, Daddy. Momma says you're working real hard, but I just can't sleep until I hear my… " she yawns, and the tiniest little breath escapes her mouth, "lullaby."

"Alright, angel, you get snuggled real tight under the covers and Daddy will sing your lullaby," I whispered.

"I'm ready, Daddy," she responded seriously.

I cleared my throat a bit and crooned the haunting melody of her lullaby.

_Dream little one, dream_

_Dream my little one, dream_

_Though the hunter in the night_

_Fills your childish heart with fright_

_Fear is only a dream_

_So dream little one, dream_

Her little snores alert me that she has in fact fallen asleep after I've finished singing through the song a few times. Rustling sounds come from the phone again and my wife is back on the line.

"Hey, thanks babe. I've been trying to get her to sleep for hours, but your mother has been spoiling her with chocolate and she's been on a sugar high all night," she giggles in her sweet lilting voice.

I chuckle a bit at the image that fills my mind of my little angel's face smeared with chocolate running all over the house.

"Well, I won't keep you any longer. Goodnight, Edward," she whispers.

"Goodnight, Bella," I whisper back.

I slip the phone back into my pocket, finding myself feeling more at ease than before my conversation.

"Okay, Felix, I told you I wouldn't forget about you, and I haven't." I say coldly.

My knife is back in position. "Ready, Felix?" I say excitedly. "No, I suppose not," I muse, before plunging the knife straight into his heart. I watch in awe as the blood pools on his chest underneath his plastic sheath. I exhale an even breath of relief.

^*!*^

An hour later, I have Felix dismembered and tucked neatly in black Hefty bags. My former kill room is back to its original state, not a thing out of place. _What can I say? I'm a neat monster._ I load the bags into the back of my inconspicuous silver Volvo, and head for the marina where my boat is docked ready and waiting.

For my victims, I'm the ferryman, there to take them across The River Styx and into Hades. No coins for their fare are needed as they've all paid in blood.

I start up my boat 'Slice of Life', then Felix and I follow the GPS to my dumping grounds. He'll find his Hades 200 feet below to rest with some of his fellow monsters. He'll be good company. I watch as he sinks into the murky depths of the Pacific and beyond where my eyes can see. Moments later I am back in the captain's chair headed back to the dock so I can get back home to my wife and child in Forks. For now The Code of Carlisle - my foster father - is satisfied, and so am I.

* * *

The prologue is just a glimpse into the future, a light at the end of a very dark tunnel. Stick with me, enjoy the ride and we'll get there eventually.

I am trying to get Chapter 10 of EC: Love Sick Geek ready, so the first chapters for this fic will not be ready for another week or two.

Since this is all I have written for this fic so far, reviews are needed and appreciated!

Enjoy!

Also, I Love Reviews!


	2. Beginnings

**Edward Cullen: Confessions of a Serial Killer**

**~SoapyMayhem**

Thanks to my beta Twimarti for her superb help in getting this fic ready!

Disclaimer: Twilight, Dexter, and Night of the Hunter, are all publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning **This story is going to be very violent, and in a later chapter will have a non-sensational depiction of rape and the depiction of killing an animal. Rated M for a reason

* * *

**Chapter 1 ** Beginnings ****

****Edward Cullen****

_Death isn't the end - it's the beginning of a chain reaction that will catch you if you're not careful. Carlisle taught me that none of us are who we appear to be on the outside, but we must maintain appearances to survive. But there was something he didn't teach me. Something he didn't know - couldn't possibly know. The willful taking of life represents the ultimate disconnect from humanity. It leaves you an outsider, forever looking in, searching for company to keep. All you can do is play along at life, and hope that sometimes you get it right._

** October 1, 2009 **

To the people I surrounded myself with, I was Edward Cullen - dedicated scientist and doctor of hematology, supportive brother, and the helpful neighbor to call to fix things when the super was unavailable. To my victims, I was the grim reaper come to collect on the debt they owed when they decided to take a life. I knew how hypocritical and narcissistic my game was, but the good citizens of the Pacific Northwest would probably thank me if they knew I was protecting them and their innocent families from the monsters of this world. They'd probably consider me a super hero, The Dark Defender, maybe.

I enjoyed playing God; saving lives with the research I'd done on blood disorders, and taking them by eliminating those who'd taken it away from others. I was the killer of killers. I was very good at my game and my ability to cover my tracks. It was no coincidence; I had an excellent teacher. Though he was hardly here for me anymore, as an adolescent and until I was a young adult, he had been there for me as a father and a teacher.

The reason for my success in both in my daytime and nighttime activities was The Code. It was Carlisle's set of practices and rules that I needed to follow implicitly to avoid suspect. The rules were ingrained and practically instinctual at this point in my life.

When I was three years old, former legendary F.B.I. agent Carlisle Cullen found me in a shipping container near the harbor in Seattle, during one of his cases. Other than that, I had no other details of my past. The few times that I had spoken to Carlisle about when he'd found me, there was nothing to tell. At the age of three, I knew my own name- Edward, and the names Momma, and J.J. I had no real names or addresses. No family I could identify.

There were no missing child cases that even matched. It almost made me wonder if my own biological mother and father had somehow seen the monster I would become and got rid of me before they had to face it. Unbeknownst to the Cullens, my foster family, they had taken in an innocent boy that would one day become a sociopath, a monster.

As a child, I was quite contemplative and actually respectful to those in authority, but I was also a bit of bully and a terror to animals. Animals didn't like me. They would either hide or cower in my presence or they would growl, bark, or even try to bite. I'd always assumed it was because they didn't like what I sometimes did to their masters.

It was the grave of an animal I'd killed that actually brought my dark tendencies to Carlisle's attention. When I was seven years old, the neighbor's dog went missing. I killed it. When Carlisle confronted me, I admitted to killing it. I really didn't feel bad at all. I thought my reason was justified.

_**Flashback- September 25, 1984**_

_I sat up straight in my bed after I heard a knock at my door._

"_Who is it?" I asked._

"_Ew-ward, it me Alith, I need to thleep wif you please," she whined sleepily._

"_Okay, you can come in," I offered. The door opened quickly and a sleepy looking 3-year-old sprinted over to my bed, teddy bear in hand, and crawled under the covers with me. _

"_Alice, what's wrong, why don't you want to sleep in your bed?" I asked curiously._

"_That thtoopid dog Rathcal won't thtop barking. He wakth me up a bunch, I with he would thtopit," she grumbled irritably. I nodded in understanding._

"_Will you make him thtop, Ew-ward?" she asked sweetly._

"_Sure, go to sleep and I'll take care of it," I promised._

_I waited for her to fall asleep and then slipped out of the bed and walked to the other side of the house. Emmett, my younger brother by a year, was in his room with the door closed, probably asleep by now. Esme was sleeping and Carlisle was working late on a case, so he was out for the evening. I liked the freedom I suddenly had and decided not to waste it. By the time I reached the kitchen door, I could plainly hear the dog yapping loudly at something several yards from the house._

_I put on my rain slicker and galoshes and then proceeded to enter the same security code I'd seen Esme enter a hundred times into the keypad near the door. It wasn't raining then, but Seattle was a very rainy place and my feet squished in the mud as I walked across the lawn. _

_I could hear Rascal getting closer and closer. When I spotted him, he was busy growling at something in the garbage can. Curious, I waited to see what he was barking at. Suddenly, Rascal had knocked over the can and a small raccoon ran out of it, terrified. He was in attack mode and caught up to the raccoon easily snapping its neck with one bite from his powerful jaws. _

_While he was distractedly sniffing, I snuck up behind him. When a twig snapped under my feet he turned to me and growled while standing over his kill protectively. I wasn't afraid of being bitten; I was exhilarated. I felt more alive than ever before. I lunged for him. My hands took purchase and snapped his neck so fast I hardly had time to notice the dead raccoon I'd landed on._

_With both animals dead, I knew I needed to move them so Alice and Emmett weren't upset by the sight of the dead raccoon. I knew they both liked the raccoons that hung around our place because Emmett fed them Captain Crunch all the time. I went to Carlisle's shed and found one of Esme's gardening spades to dig a hole. The edge of the tree line had plenty of soft dirt, so I dug a shallow grave and buried them there while the rain washed the remains on my blood splattered rain slicker._

_Over the next few days all the kids in the neighborhood began looking for Rascal. I became slightly frustrated that Alice seemed to be worried about the dog. 'Didn't she want me to make him stop?' I thought to myself, confused. It was then I realized that it was probably best if Alice didn't know what I'd done. She could get upset, even though I'd only done what she asked._

_Carlisle was off work for a few days, after having solved his case. He wanted to help Esme with some gardening and noticed her spade hadn't been cleaned. He knew with Esme's cleaning habits she would not have left it that way. I had, however, since I hadn't realized that I'd done anything wrong in killing the animal and hadn't tried to hide it my actions. He searched the yard and noticed the still fresh grave._

_After Emmett and I arrived home from school that afternoon, Carlisle was waiting on the steps to confront us about what he'd found. He was clearly concerned, maybe even slightly anxious._

"_Do either of you boys know what happened to Rascal?" he asked seriously. Emmett looked a little confused, but I nodded. _

_Before Carlisle could take me aside to talk away from Emmett, I admitted indifferently, "I killed him." _

_Carlisle looked contemplative but unsurprised by my admission. Emmett's mouth hung open in a silent gasp._

"_Edward, why did you kill Rascal?" Carlisle asked curiously. _

"_Alice, she said to make him stop barking, so I did," I replied matter-of-factly._

"_Okay, and why did you kill the raccoon?" he asked in an even, curious tone. Emmett looked sad suddenly and started to cry._

"_Edward, those raccoons are my friends," he sobbed. I became slightly agitated from being wrongfully accused._

"_Rascal killed the raccoon, not me! Look on its neck, there are bloody teeth marks; I only broke Rascal's neck. I wouldn't hurt the raccoons. I know you and Alice like to feed them," I said, imploring them to believe me. I wasn't a liar. I felt justified, so I didn't feel the need to hide anything._

_After our conversation, Carlisle sent Emmett inside to play after telling him not to tell anyone what I'd done. He also advised him that he should never harm any animals, like I had. Emmett assured him that he loved me and the animals, and he would never hurt either of us._

_He asked me some questions about my thoughts, feelings, and motivations. I think it was then that Carlisle realized what was inside me. _

In the years following that incident, Carlisle studied me, building a lesson plan for me to follow. Around the age of twelve, he started taking Emmett and I on hunting trips. During these trips, he would teach us. We were being trained and molded in the same fashion that Carlisle had been at Quantico, the F.B.I. training academy. He taught us how to think like cops. The difference was that Emmett actually would become a cop, while I just knew how to avoid them.

Emmett was well aware of my illegal activities; he practically handed me my victims. He basically provided the 'intel', the details of their crimes, and where to find them. Though I didn't completely understand Emmett's personality, aside from Carlisle he was the only other person I could completely trust. He played a major part in fulfilling rule number one of The Code - 'Be sure'.

A while back, Emmett essentially took Carlisle's place. Since his graduation from the police academy five years ago and Carlisle's retirement from the F.B.I. a year later, he became my contact into the wonderful world of the justice system.

When he was a rookie, Emmett was required to work in the file room which allowed him to get plenty of info on possible leads for me, for a while. Once he no longer had access to the file room, we couldn't get the intel necessary to fulfill rule number one. With Carlisle's imminent retirement, I was facing a dry spell, and I had no clue how I was going to cope with that, or if I even could. I didn't want to find out.

Luckily, I didn't have to. With his outgoing personality and good looks, he gained the trust of Ms. Hale, the file clerk at Seattle P.D. She would let Emmett in to look at files as long he fucked her and brought her coffee. It was a crude system, but would have to do until Emmett was able to transfer from vice to homicide.

Then there was Alice. She was four years younger but still tried to act like she was the same age as Emmett and me. She was our shadow and often made me anxious, but never bored. I liked her company.

Alice was completely in the dark about the fucked up relationship between Carlisle, Emmett and me, so that meant she was left at home during hunting trips and was asked to leave the room during our business conversations. We could tell she was jealous and she took it out on Carlisle and Emmett, but never me, strangely. I was her favorite, and that baffled me. I didn't know if it was the fact that Emmett picked on her and I didn't, or that Carlisle seemed to ignore her often while I listened with rapt attention to anything she said, but she favored me nonetheless.

She began to drift away from us all as she got older, but after some bad things happened to her in college, she returned home with a drinking problem and a cop boyfriend.

Emmett made the assumption that she was only dating a cop to get Carlisle's attention, until Alice eventually married Jasper. He became a friend and mentor within the police force to Emmett and a regular fixture in the Cullen household. _I,_ however, wasn't at all comfortable with having a homicide detective for a brother in law.

Over the years my relationship with Carlisle had become strained. It started when he was present for one of my first kills.

_**Flashback March 13. 1999**_

_I could still feel the chill of winter biting at my nose and fingertips as I waited outside Black Bones tattoo parlor in Seattle. Marcus Volturi, a former hit man for a Chicago mafia family, was my target. Based on Carlisle's info he had relocated to Seattle after an 'injury' claimed his right hand, and ultimately his trigger finger. _

_The mafia still had use for him, though. He was in charge of the family sex-trade business, which was operational in the Seattle harbor area. They would import and export women by boat after drugging them and doing who knows what else to them. They would then be sold on the black market._

_Whether by his remaining hand or not, the women he sold would be dead in a few months or even less, with the drugs he fed them to keep them docile. Those indiscretions alone were enough to meet my requirements, not to mention all the people he had to have hit while in Chicago. _

_Carlisle was certain his team could take down the operation, but wanted to make sure Marcus was gone for good. His family connections would get him the best legal help money could buy, and probably a shortened sentence. Carlisle cherry-picked Marcus just for me, and practically placed him right in my lap._

_I decided that I would make the kill significant to both Marcus and me. I found a quiet part of Seattle harbor and an empty shipping container for my kill room. I covered everything in plastic sheeting just the way Carlisle had taught me, and as I had only two other times before._

_Earlier that evening, I had located Marcus at the diner he frequented and waited for him to finish eating. The diner parking lot was much too public a place to try and capture him. I followed him to the tattoo parlor, which Carlisle informed me was a meeting place for his operation. As soon as he finished his conversation outside and went into the parlor, I was on the move. _

_I ran in the shadows until I was near his car, a little black Porsche. There was a dark corner near a rusted out red Chevy pickup-truck that would make for a perfect hiding spot and would also protect me from the elements while I waited._

_I didn't have to wait long, maybe forty-five minutes. Thankfully, Marcus was alone as he travelled to his car. I stealthily appeared behind him and quickly put him in a choke hold, which caused him to lose consciousness. He was easily incapacitated without two good hands to fight me off._

_I bound him in ropes and dragged him through the shadows quietly to my vehicle and put him in the trunk. Once I was a few miles away from the parlor I called Carlisle on my unbelievably handy new mobile phone, to let him know I had captured the target._

_I wasn't sure why, but Carlisle insisted he wanted to be in the kill room this time while I took care of Marcus. _

_The dark harbor smelled of salt water and the rusted metallic scent of the shipping containers, which was all vaguely similar to the smell of blood. Once I was sure there was no one around, I moved Marcus into the container and onto the table I'd fashioned out of a metal door and couple of saw-horses. It was sturdy enough. _

_Before he could awaken, I placed him on the table and wrapped him tightly in plastic. There was no way he could move. I called Carlisle to see why he hadn't arrived, and then I heard a ring outside the shipping container. I walked out to see Carlisle pacing back and forth, strangely nervous._

"_Carlisle, aren't you coming in? Marcus will be awake soon, and I don't need him squirming around. He'll knock over the table I put him on, or something," I asked anxiously, wanting to get back to my kill. I disliked being interrupted._

"_Edward, I wasn't completely honest with you about Marcus," Carlisle offered worriedly. I furrowed my brow in confusion, but waited for him to continue._

"_Marcus is who I said, but I didn't mention why I picked him. I wanted to… he… he killed a friend. Another agent from Quantico and I became friends. He was assigned to Chicago to go in deep cover to investigate the Volturi family. Eleazar, my friend, was discovered and Marcus took him out. The point is, Edward, I wanted to watch you kill the bastard for what he did to my friend," he said hesitantly, as if he was unsure of what he was asking._

_I was excited by the prospect of Carlisle watching me. I even mused that maybe he would want to join me for more of my kills. _

_He followed me into the container, but neither of us said another word. _

_Several minutes of silence later, Marcus was awake._

"_What the fuck is this?" he spat furiously._

"_I guess you could call it your deathbed, Marcus. I thought maybe you'd like to join your dead right hand," I replied icily. "All joking aside, you are here because of the bad, bad things you've done, and you of all people should not be surprised."_

"_You goddamn asshole, you know who I am, but you still try this? The Volturi will find out and murder you and your whole fucking family," he spat._

"_I'm not worried, Marcus, but thank you for your concern about my family," I laughed humorlessly. _

_I was starting to learn with every kill that some victims were beyond irritating and I would have to gag them in some way. My assumption was that, if allowed, Marcus would threaten me and then start trying to bargain with me, and when all hope was lost he would probably just scream. I decided to gag him until I remembered Carlisle in the corner. I hadn't thought about what he might want. _

_This kill was as much his as it was mine, though he wouldn't be plunging a knife into Marcus' chest. _

'_Was there something you wanted to say to Marcus?" I asked, looking to Carlisle. He was strangely silent and shook his head no. Marcus was yelling about giving me a million dollars, and not telling anyone. I didn't need his fucking money._

"_You mind if I gag him? He's annoying me," I asked hopefully. He shook his head again and crouched in the corner of the container as far away as he could get without actually leaving. I was momentarily distracted by how pale my foster father was, but I was too excited to kill Marcus to give it any further scrutiny. _

_I grabbed an oily rag off the floor that I had used to wipe the dirt off my hands from making the table, and shoved it roughly into Marcus' mouth to shut him up. The look of terror and distaste on his face let me know that the rag was not an enjoyable intruder in his mouth. I closed my eyes for a minute just enjoying the moment before the kill and his muffled screams._

_I grabbed my tools from the bag; a serrated hunting knife, a cleaver, and a bone saw. The hunting knife was a recent Christmas gift from Carlisle, and when I saw it I knew- I'd found my new best friend. I looked reverently at the weapon, watching as the light glinted off the stainless blade and mirrored onto Marcus' chest. It was like a beacon pointing the way home. I was ready._

_I raised the blade above my head and waited for a moment just feeling the adrenaline pulse through my veins, exciting me making me feel something - alive. I vaguely heard a quiet gasp from the corner beside me but ignored it. _

"_This isn't just for me, Marcus. This is for the women you've murdered here in Seattle. This is for the people you killed and the families you destroyed in Chicago. This is for Carlisle, for killing Eleazar, his friend," I panted, slightly breathless from the anticipation._

_I plunged the knife into his chest, and breathed a sigh of contentment. All was quiet until I heard the sound of retching coming from the corner. I looked up, confused by the sound. Carlisle vomited for a few minutes until he was dry heaving. With Marcus' corpse momentarily forgotten, I walked over to see what was wrong with Carlisle. He was shaking and wouldn't look at me._

"_I have to go, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry," he choked out as he ran from the container. My face fell._

That moment was the closest thing to sadness I think I had ever felt. I realized that, no matter how supportive Carlisle had been over the years, he never truly fathomed what I would become until he saw it with his own eyes. He continued to give me victims and offer advice when I needed it, but there was never the enthusiasm and pride that he once had given me. It made me doubt everything he'd ever taught me as a father; the hope I'd carried over the years that someday I could feel love for something or someone besides killing.

One thing he'd said to me as a child always stuck with me. It was a few years after he'd started my training. He told me, "It's okay, Edward. You can't help what happened to you, but you can make the best of it. Remember this forever: you are my son, you are not alone, and you are loved."

How could I trust that when after all those years, as soon as he saw the monster, really saw the monster, the father in Carlisle had abandoned me?

After Emmett took over and Carlisle was no longer the one to give me my assignments, things got better. He began trying to focus on helping me with my façade. My lack of natural human emotions would raise suspicions in medical school, the work place, and most importantly in my relationships.

There was very little time for me to date anyone while in medical school, or after during my residency and when I began my research. At age 32, I had only dated four women, and one girl in high school. They all fit a bit of a profile- quiet, shy, and emotionally damaged. Those women were as disconnected as I was, so they rarely noticed my strange behaviors - until we had sex.

My relationships had been able to last for several months as the women weren't usually that interested in sex, but at some point it became unavoidable. I tried Carlisle's suggestions to say nice things to them during the act, to break the focus away from my emotionlessness. I would tell them how pretty they were, that they made me feel good, but ultimately I always found myself staring into their eyes looking for something, hoping to feel something, and that's when I'd lose them. The last woman I was with actually screamed fearfully during sex, and struggled out of my arms and left. That was the last time I saw her. I hadn't dated anyone in the last two years since.

Carlisle had been pressuring me lately to try and find a wife. It was his suggestion that a nice girl would only help me with my cover. A family would help me if my victims were ever discovered. If an F.B.I. profiler was ever brought in to create a profile of me based on my victims, with a wife and kids I'd be less likely to fit the description.

Apparently, I needed to find a girlfriend, but that was the least of my problems. I now had to figure out how I was going to fake making love, and enjoying sex for more than what it was to me - a physical release.

_I was so fucked._

_

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_

Bella is Next!

Review or Edward will come and get you.


	3. Welcome Home

**Edward Cullen: Confessions of a Serial Killer**

**~SoapyMayhem**

Thanks to my beta Twimarti for her superb help in getting this fic ready!

Disclaimer: Twilight, Dexter, and Play Dead by Bjork, and all publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning **This story is going to be very violent, and in a later chapter will have a non-sensational depiction of rape. Rated M for a reason

* * *

**Chapter 2 **Welcome Home****

**** Bella Swan ****

_Play Dead - Bjork_

_I play dead  
it stops the hurting_

_I play dead and hurting stops  
_

_It's sometimes just like sleeping  
curling up inside my private tortures  
I nestle into pain  
hug suffering  
caress every ache_

_** October 3, 2009 **_

"Hello, my name Bella, and I'm an alcoholic. I've been sober for eleven months," I spoke quickly, anxiously tapping my boot heels on the cold linoleum floor.

I wasn't going to share today, not for a while, but I was new and at least had to introduce myself to the small group. Anonymous my ass.

"Hello, Bella," the group mumbled simultaneously, some sounding more enthusiastic than others.

I sat in a wide circle in the basement of First Methodist Church in Forks, Washington, which just so happened to be the rainiest place in the entire country. I couldn't wait to see how that would affect my depression.

These meetings mostly consisted of older folks, but there were three that looked to be about my age - a girl and two guys. One of the guys, Eric I think, was sharing. I couldn't find it in me to listen.

I'd been in AA for 18 months, and by now I'd heard it all. I wasn't really _feeling _the meeting tonight. Being in a new place and seeing new people was too much of a distraction.

Tyler, the man running the meetings, had approached me before we started to offer to match me with a sponsor. I'd agreed reluctantly, knowing that being in a new place was going to test my limits. Having someone I could call might be the only thing that would keep me from giving in to my sad addiction.

I'd been here seven days, and already I'd been tempted to drink.

The first day I was here was to help Billy Black, my father's best friend, plan a funeral- my father's.

The second day, I attended the visitation, seeing only one or two people I'd recognized from my childhood.

The third day, I attended the funeral and the reading of the will.

The fourth day was spent making arrangements for all of my stuff to be packed and moved from my studio and apartment and shipped here to the home I'd inherited.

The fifth day, I ended up moving out the things I wouldn't need and had them donated or brought to the dump.

The sixth day, I drove my father's pickup truck to the nearby town of Port Angeles, to buy things for the house. I had to make it more suitable for a woman to live in.

Today my stuff arrived, and that was when I truly realized that I'd left my old life behind and was about to finally move on.

The last several days had felt like I was on autopilot. I hadn't even realized what I was doing in moving here, but when I did, I nearly had a panic attack. Needless to say, I called around till I found a meeting.

Before I knew it, the meeting was over, and I'd hardly heard a word that anyone had said. I stood up and reached for my coat, as it was practically the dead of winter here compared to the last place I lived, Florida. Tyler lightly grasped my shoulder to stop me from leaving and I cringed while fighting the urge to rip his hand off. I didn't want him touching me.

"Bella, before you go, there's someone I thought you should meet. This is Alice. If it's amicable, she'd like to be your sponsor," he offered cheerfully. I glanced behind him to see a small, waifish girl with spikey black hair standing behind him staring at the floor.

I felt overdressed next to her, as she looked plain in black pants and an oversized grey sweatshirt. She appeared to be about 26 or 27, but when she met my gaze her eyes made her seem so much older. I was suddenly worried about having her as a sponsor. She looked much worse than I was. I managed to elicit a sad smile and timid handshake from her.

Tyler left us alone, and I was suddenly at a loss for words.

"Hi, Bella, so yeah, I'm Alice," she said quietly, barely able to look me in the eyes.

"So I hear," I replied jokingly, which earned me a small smile. Her reaction encouraged me to give her a chance. "It's nice to meet you, Alice. Listen, I really want to get out of here, but I'm not really in the mood to go home just yet. You want to go for some coffee?"

She looked up at me curiously and then nodded.

"Do you want to follow me or ride together?" she asked apprehensively. Not wanting to be stuck somewhere in case she turned out to be totally bat-shit crazy, I agreed to simply follow her.

I walked into the bitter cold over to my black Audi A5, which had arrived today along with all of my other stuff. Alice came up behind me suddenly and I tensed reflexively.

"Cool car," she said, smirking at me. The change in her demeanor surprised me until I heard the familiar beep of the car next to mine unlocking. I glanced over and saw the exact make of my car, but slightly older and in yellow. We chuckled at the same time at the coincidence of having the same type of car. After getting in to our respective vehicles, we drove toward the diner down the street.

In retrospect, I think maybe I'd misjudged her. Seeing the bright yellow car gave me hope that maybe somewhere deep down Alice wasn't as morose as I'd originally thought.

The warmth from inside the diner was shocking to my frosty cheeks. I followed Alice to a booth near the back. My assumptions about her were again challenged as she was greeted by name by all the patrons and wait staff before we could even sit down. For such a quiet girl, she seemed to be awfully popular.

I ordered black coffee and a slice of apple pie with melted cheddar. It had been years since I'd had it that way - Charlie's way. I thought having it like that would be a bit of a tribute to him. Sadly, the apple pie and Rainier beer were the only favorites of his I could remember, and the beer was out - for obvious reasons.

"So, I know this is supposed to be anonymous and all, but I've never had that apply with any of my sponsors. If it's alright with you, I'd like us to get to know each other, maybe even become friends," Alice spoke nervously, but I could see a glimmer of hope in her sad eyes.

Instead of responding to her offer I held out my hand. "Bella Swan, nice to meet you," I smiled reassuringly.

"Alice Whitlock," she grinned, her eyes suddenly much brighter.

"So Alice Whitlock, tell me about yourself," I asked before taking a bite of the savory pie.

"Umm, well, there isn't much to tell. I work at the bank as a teller, and my husband Jasper is a detective for the Seattle police department. He works there with one of my brothers…" she trailed off. I briefly wondered why she was living in Forks while her husband worked hours away in Seattle, but thought it best not to ask.

"I've been sober for two years," she said suddenly excited, as if she'd just remembered something really important that she'd forgotten to say.

"What about you?" she asked breathlessly.

"Well, I just moved here a week ago into the house I inherited from my father-" I started, but was suddenly interrupted.

"Swan, I didn't even realize! You're Charlie Swan's daughter, the artist?" she asked, suddenly beaming from the realization. Just as quickly as she'd become excited, her face became the picture of remorse. "I'm sorry about your dad. We, I mean my family and I, went to the funeral. It was lovely."

"It's alright," I dismissed, "we really didn't spend that much time together."

"Oh, well, umm I'm sorry. You were saying before," she spoke still remorseful.

"Well, I guess you know I'm an artist, and about my dad. I guess there isn't that much more to tell," I chuckled and Alice perked up again as she realized she hadn't upset me.

We talked for a while. I told her what little details I could about myself. I learned that Alice had two _single_ brothers. One was a cop, as she'd mentioned before, working in Seattle. The other was a doctor who worked at the oncology clinic here in Forks as a hematologist. She was eager for me to meet them both.

Since I didn't know anyone else and Alice seemed nice enough, I asked her to go shopping with me the following day. I had hardly any clothes suitable for the weather here and needed to stock up. Since she was off work, she agreed excitedly. She knew where the former police chief lived, so she said she'd meet me at my place so we could ride together.

By the time we'd gotten done talking, she was practically bubbling with excitement. Apparently, she hadn't been shopping in months and thought that it would help her get out of the funk she'd been in.

Alice was a paradox; the way she dressed and her shy demeanor were in direct opposition to the excited girl who couldn't wait to go shopping and was trying to hook me up with her brothers. We'd only met an hour earlier, but she spoke as though we'd known each other for years. I had a feeling that we were going to be good friends.

I mostly thought about Alice and what tomorrow might bring as I made the short drive home. All was quiet except for the smooth purr of the engine, until I got to the graveled drive of Charlie's, I mean my home. The dark house, which had felt empty, seemed more like home knowing that I would have a friend over the next day.

I lit a fire in the fireplace and curled up on my comfy black chaise lounge across from it to read. I was about to nod off when Jake padded sleepily into the room. When he yawned I chuckled, causing him to perk up a bit when he realized I was there.

"Let's go to bed," I suggested groggily. He followed me up the stairs, but stayed behind as I brushed my teeth. When I opened the bathroom door he was there waiting for me. I scratched him under his chin affectionately and he followed me into the dark bedroom.

I groaned when I realized that he'd totally messed up the bed I'd made earlier. In his fight to curl up under the blankets, he'd knocked them all into the floor. He was almost too big for the queen sized bed we'd shared for the last seven nights.

"What am I gonna do with you?" I chuckled.

"Don't make me send you to the pound," I teased. He jumped up on the bed, and then licked my face before nuzzling me to let him under the blankets to sleep against me. I wondered if Charlie had allowed him to sleep like this, or if I was just a sucker for those big blue eyes. _Who needs an electric blanket, when you have a 75 pound Alaskan Malamute to warm you up at night?_

_I could feel his hot breath on the back of my neck and the cold steel of the gun pressed against my back through the thin blouse. I whimpered fearfully but the sound was muffled by the large calloused hand that was closed tightly over my mouth._

"_Make a sound and you die, slut," he rasped menacingly into my ear._

_I could almost feel the vibration from the thunderous pop of the gun as it went off._

I awoke screaming, causing Jake to stir and climb out of the bed. He obviously didn't want to sleep with a banshee. Knowing I'd need my rest for shopping the next day, I tried to fall back asleep, but was almost afraid to. I had been blessed that the dream ended when it did, but if I fell asleep it might pick back up where it left off. It was times like these that made it hard to resist drinking. When I was drunk the dreams would stop because I would get too wasted to even think about that night. I finally managed to nod off after tossing and turning for another hour.

Alice arrived at the house bright eyed and dressed to the nines. She barely resembled the mousy little thing I'd seen last night. I imagined that she wanted to impress me, but hoped that maybe it was just her way of making an effort to get out of the funk she'd mentioned being in. She came in to have a cup of coffee and get a tour of the house. It seemed she liked all the changes I'd made. She couldn't believe it was the same house, knowing the way Charlie had everything.

Apparently, Charlie had been a bit of a mentor to her brother Emmett before he joined the police force. It was interesting that both our families were involved with law enforcement, but with the little time I'd spent with Charlie, I couldn't really relate to Alice on that matter the way I might have. Had things been different and I'd grown up in Forks instead of Arizona, Alice and I may have become friends a lot sooner.

We had plenty in common - the same taste in movies, music, and literature. I was surprised to find that she was a fan of my art and that she and her husband, Jasper, even had one of my prints in their study. I knew it had to have been some of my older work, though. Hardly anyone in their right mind would hang my new work. People sure loved to fucking look at it though. It seemed like lately the only people buying my work were rich eccentrics and people who generally seemed disturbed. Needless to say, I'd recently stopped meeting with buyers. They all wanted to know about my inspiration. I could hardly talk to my shrink about that, so there was no way I'd tell them.

Alice and I made the hour-long trip to Port Angeles, chatting constantly along the way. We were having fun, and I could honestly say it was the first time in months that I'd felt that way.

"I have to clear out the downstairs bedroom on Saturday. I'm going to turn it into a studio," I told Alice as we ate noodles from the mall food court. She nodded, probably unsure of how to respond since I'd suddenly changed the subject from facial cleansers.

"I need to paint the room so I can start working again. Charlie painted it hunter green, so it looks disgusting. If you're not busy, it might be fun to have a painting party. That is, if you know anyone who'd want to help," I suggested nervously. I thought maybe if Alice had some friends, I could put myself out there and really make an effort to get to know people here.

"Oh, a party, that sounds like a great idea. Jasper and Emmett are in Forks most weekends unless they have a case to work on. I know they'll want to meet you. Edward, he does a lot of research when he isn't in the clinic during the week, so he probably won't be up for it. If you don't mind an older person being there, my mom would be handy. She's a retired interior designer," Alice spoke quickly, barely taking a breath.

"Oh, well, that sounds great," I managed a smile. I'd expected Alice to suggest a few friends, not practically her entire family, but who was I to complain? I was thankful I wouldn't have to paint a giant room by myself.

The day passed mostly uneventful after that. Alice tried to talk to me about her brothers. She really wanted me to meet both of them, but had a feeling that I would probably be more interested in Edward, her oldest brother. I hated telling her that I wasn't really looking to date right now. I couldn't, however, bring myself to tell her that it wasn't because I wasn't interested; I just couldn't stand for any man to touch me anymore. If I was being honest, I missed having sex and cuddling, but every time I was within a few feet of a man, my body seemed to repel, never mind if they touched me. It had taken two years of therapy to barely get over the violent reaction that a simple touch elicited from me. _Fucking PTSD._

Alice and I each put nearly a thousand dollars' worth of clothes and shoes on our credit cards. We then went to the hardware store to buy some supplies for the paint party. After, Alice showed me where the closest art supply store was so I could pick up a few canvases and a new brush.

Alice left after we got back to Forks and I was alone, again.

There were a few things I still hadn't taken care of. I needed to call my manager, Peter. After putting it off as long as I could, I called him and we spoke for a while. He was furious that I'd packed up and moved to the other side of the country without so much as a word to him in over two weeks.

After I emailed him pictures of my newest piece, he quit his complaining. I knew there was a reason I paid him a small fortune. He had a few contacts in Seattle, and I was particularly interested in those at the prestigious Foster White Gallery. Within an hour, he'd already set up a showing with them for my newest series.

Since sunny Florida was unreceptive, I wondered if the nice folks here in the dreary Pacific Northwest might have a taste for my particular brand of horror.

Saturday was here so fast I hardly even realized it until Alice showed up at my doorstep with a small painting crew in tow.

Beside her was a lanky man with blonde hair who would have been strikingly handsome were it not for the large scar that marred the left side of his face. I made sure not to stare at it even though I was compelled to do so. I figured he was probably Jasper, and wondered if he would be offended if I asked his permission to use him as a subject.

A petite brunette maybe in her mid-fifties stood to the other side of her. She smiled at me warmly, and I knew she had to be Alice's mother. I felt a pang of sadness seeing her kind eyes, as they reminded me of my own mother's.

It was hard to miss the hulking giant standing behind tiny Alice. I knew he had to be Emmett. They both looked so much alike. The only person I didn't recognize was the platinum blonde amazon girl who was wrapped around Emmett possessively. She must have seen me looking at Emmett because she gave me the stink-eye. I groaned internally, knowing that'd I'd probably have to prove my disinterest in Alice's overgrown brother to keep civility between us.

"Hey, Bella," Alice said excitedly before enveloping me in a tight hug. I tensed a bit in reaction to the unfamiliar gesture, but managed a smile.

"Everybody, this is Bella. Bella, this is Jasper, my mom, Esme, Emmett, and Rosalie Hale, Emmett's girlfriend," she said motioning toward each of her guests. Alice barely concealed the disdain from her voice as she introduced Rosalie. I muffled the laughter threatening to spill out at her reaction.

"It's nice of you all to make it, I really appreciate the help. Please come in," I offered politely, but shoved my hands in my pockets to avoid any potential handshakes from Emmett or Jasper.

Alice joined Esme and I on a tour of the house while the guys and Rosalie readied the room for painting. Because I'd forgotten to buy anything for the party, I had to order several large pizzas, some wings, and drinks to be delivered to the house. If Emmett's size was any indication to his appetite, I assumed all the food would be eaten.

Once we got started, I distanced myself from Emmett and Rosalie opting to talk to Jasper and Alice. I couldn't help but laugh though - Emmett was such a clown. He even seemed to have melted Rosalie's frosty exterior and she was laughing heartily at him with the rest of us.

After we had taken our dinner break, Jasper approached me away from the others. I had to force my eyes to meet his and look away from the long scar that I was strangely tempted to touch.

"Bella, I just wanted to talk to you alone so I could thank you," he said seriously.

"What for?" I asked curiously.

"Well, it's for Alice, really. You have no idea the turnaround that meeting you has caused in her. She's almost care free lately. It's been so long since I've see her this way," he almost choked, his eyes filled with unshed tears. I felt so compelled to comfort him, but my flight instinct wouldn't allow me that kindness.

"I think we both needed a friend; she's helped me a lot, too," I smiled reassuringly, hoping to comfort him with my words.

"Oh my God!" a shrill voice shrieked from the other room. Jasper and I rushed into the room to see what the fuss was about. It only took me two seconds to realize what had happened.

Rosalie's mouth was gaping as she held a large canvas up for Alice, Esme, and Emmett to see. _Fuck_. I knew I shouldn't have stored my paintings in the walk-in closet without locking the door. I had no intention for my new friends to see the product of the horror that was my life now.

Everyone stared at me as if they were seeing me in a different light, and Jasper curiously walked over to look at the painting. His eyes widened in reaction to the emotions the painting evoked. I wasn't sure which one they were looking at. Each of my paintings shared variations of the same shocking image. Any of them would have elicited that reaction.

"Bella, this… umm, it doesn't look like your other work, but it's very… uhh, intriguing," Alice spoke hesitantly. I had to fight the grimace that was threatening to cover my face from her reaction. It was typical. People either loved it or hated it; there was no in between. Only those who knew well how to hide their distaste.

"Uhh, well yea, I did that and the others a few months ago when I was really struggling to quit drinking. It was a dark time," I lied convincingly. I'd actually done most of those paintings three or four weeks ago, and alcohol addiction had nothing to do with the dark subject matter I'd portrayed in them.

Everyone nodded in understanding but continued to study the painting. I was embarrassed to have my life on display for _them_, even though I'd planned to show these pieces to the public in mere weeks.

"I love it. Do you mind if I look at the rest?" Rosalie spoke seriously. I was shocked that something so macabre would appeal to her. Alice and Rosalie's reactions had been enough for me. I wasn't ready to hear what anyone else thought about them.

"Maybe later Rosalie. I get pretty emotional when I look at them, and I don't want to ruin the party," I responded, my eyes pleaded for her to drop the subject. I relinquished the canvas from her grasp and placed it back in the closet with the others.

The whole painting ordeal must have made everyone uncomfortable because the remainder of the evening was spent in relative silence until Emmett started cracking jokes again to lighten the mood.

It was nice having people over. I'd been so long without friends and family. Alice's felt like they could possibly fill that void, as long as my painting hadn't freaked them out too much. When the evening wound down we all said our goodbyes. Esme gave me a motherly hug which I surprisingly welcomed. I actually managed to shake Jasper's hand without freaking out, though, I'm fairly sure my face barely concealed a grimace.

With Rosalie by his side, Emmett opted for a simple 'it was nice to meet you and thanks for the grub'. I was thankful for her possessiveness because at this point, I wasn't sure I could have managed my small hand being enveloped by his meaty paw.

Rosalie surprised me by giving me a kiss on the cheek and a warm smile. She insisted on taking me up on my agreement to show her the rest of my work. I knew I'd debate inviting her to the gallery showing until I was able to decide whether or not I wanted the entire Cullen family to show up.

Alice smiled knowingly. We both sensed that tonight had been a success. I felt a bit more at ease, expecting her hug this time. I surprised myself by returning the gesture rather than standing there like a statue the way I normally would.

After everyone left, I went into my new studio to unpack my canvases and art supplies. Inspiration struck and I grabbed a blank canvas. I had hoped that my experience this evening would inspire something more cheerful like my work had been in the past. I was wrong. More of the same poured out of my steady hand.

I filled the canvas with the background of the same dark filthy alley that was always in my nightmares. In the center, I positioned a man who was shrouded in darkness except his fear stricken, scarred face which vaguely resembled Jasper's. Once I had his likeness captured, I began to paint the image of the killer that haunted me behind him. Every painting in my series contained that same image; by now I'd painted that same face dozens of times. It was the easiest to paint from memory, seeing as how I'd seen it so often.

Once I finished the outline of the painting, I glanced up at the clock Emmett had mounted on the wall for me. It was 5:00am, and I really needed to go to sleep. I looked over at my unfinished work and scowled at it. I wanted to destroy it, especially knowing that if any of my new friends saw it and recognized Jasper in it, they'd want to lock me up for sure. I decided I'd finish it, but thought it best to sell privately. Since Jasper worked in Seattle, I knew I'd have to keep it out of my show because there was a strong possibility that someone would recognize him and maybe get the wrong idea about it. The last thing I needed was for a detective to think I was threatening him by making him a victim in one of my paintings.

_What could I say though, his scar fascinated me. I was such a freak_.

I knew I needed to get some rest, but I had too much adrenaline still left over from painting and needed to work it out. I went up to the bedroom to get Jake to take him for a walk. I threw on a thick sweat suit, a cap, and gloves and my running shoes. Jake and I took off down the street at a brisk pace. It felt good to let out some of my pent up energy.

When we got back, Jake and I curled under the blankets together and I slept for fourteen hours. Alice had left me a message to call her back, so I did. She apologized for Emmett having a girlfriend that she wasn't aware of. I dismissed it, sighting again that I wasn't interested in dating. She ignored me and reminded me that she thought I'd be more suited to Edward anyway. I really liked Alice, but sometimes I found myself wanting to slap her.

The week went by uneventfully. I finished my painting and got everything unpacked. I met with the gallery and brought in some of my paintings; to say they were both thrilled and horrified was an understatement. Once they'd announced my show, there were already buyers interested in seeing my work. I'd even made arrangements to have the Jasper painting shown privately, citing that I didn't want the subject to see I'd painted him. They were very accommodating.

The following Thursday, Alice called to invite me to dinner at the Cullen's on Saturday. Apparently, Emmett had unexpectedly been promoted to Detective, in Homicide and was going to be replacing Jasper's partner who'd recently retired. Everyone wanted to celebrate his promotion, and Alice wanted me there. I wasn't sure how I felt about a party with her family, but she insisted that I was her best friend and belonged there with her and I couldn't argue with that. My only concern was how I was going to keep Alice from trying to get me to mate with her brother.

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Thanks for all the amazing reviews! Keepem' comin'! Next chapter Edward and Bella finally meet! review if you want it faster...


	4. Women

**Edward Cullen: Confessions of a Serial Killer**

**~SoapyMayhem**

Thanks to my beta Twimarti for her superb help in getting this fic ready!

Disclaimer: Twilight, Dexter, and all publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning **This story is going to be very violent, and in a later chapter will have a non-sensational depiction of rape. Rated M for a reason.

I really appreciate all the great reviews! The response to this story has been amazing. Edward and Bella finally meet in this chapter, enjoy!

**My apologies for the repost... had to resolve some errors in the story I missed.**

* * *

**Chapter 3 ** Women ****

**** Edward Cullen ****

_I like to pretend I'm alone - completely alone. Maybe post-apocalypse or plague... Whatever. No one left to act normal for. No need to hide who I really am. It would be... freeing._

**October 8, 2009 **

_Dating_. I feel like cringing at the mere thought of it. Dressing up, dinner reservations, small talk - pretending to be normal is exhausting. To be honest, I've found it to be the most difficult part of The Code - blending in.

The last woman I dated, Emily, was my longest relationship yet but it had the most abrupt end. We'd dated for eight months, but things with Emily were… difficult. Her insecurities were almost crippling. She was extremely jealous of every woman that looked at me. It didn't matter if it was a waitress or a cashier, simply doing their jobs and being polite. Hell, even my own sister had been subjected to Emily's jealous outrage.

When we began dating, she was a virgin - half of the women I'd been with were. It wasn't a preference; it just went with the territory of dating broken or painfully shy women. Early in the relationship, she'd given me my 'out' by mentioning her virginity and that she was nervous about losing it. I used this anxiety to my advantage to put sex off as long as possible. The fact that we weren't having sex eventually ended up making her paranoid. She assumed that if I wasn't getting it from her, I was getting it elsewhere, and she made a point to accuse me on a weekly basis.

For the most part, I'd let her accusations roll off my back. I'd dismiss her fears, assuring her that she was the only one I wanted. My explanation only worked for so long. Eventually I had to back my statements with actions.

Seconds after I was inside her, the warmth of her flesh was gone. She squirmed out from under me quickly, and the room was filled with the familiar sound of screaming then crying. I was confused. I'd never elicited this reaction during sex before. I was used to coldness, regret, and sometimes even lust, but fear - that was meant to be wrapped in plastic sheets, not cotton. It wasn't often that I found myself shocked, but after she'd dressed in a hurry and left, I was still lying in bed, dazed. I heard her slam the door to my apartment and the sound of her little red Jetta leaving the car park. I tried to figure out what happened. There hadn't been enough time for me to fuck it up with my emptiness.

I knew I'd been careful and had taken it slowly. Like in most other things, during sex, I could control myself. There was only a small amount of blood on the sheets, no more than I'd seen before after a woman's first time. It was unlikely that she was experiencing anything more than minor discomfort.

I realized then that I had been focusing on the assumption that she'd had a physical reaction, when I probably should have considered an emotional one. I already knew Emily had issues, but maybe they were just worse than I'd originally thought. I decided that I'd just wait for her explanation. I never got one. She ignored the several attempts I'd made to call her and she never made an effort to call me. A few months later I saw her in Port Angeles with a large Native American man. I knew she saw me, but she looked away as if I she didn't know who I was. I let it go.

I figured then that I probably wasn't skilled enough at my trade to pull off the boyfriend or husband disguise yet. Nor had I been successful in finding a suitable girlfriend. Maybe I was ready now.

Forks was a small town, and my family had been well known within the community since we'd moved here several years ago. So, it didn't take long to figure out who all the single, age-appropriate women were. There weren't many. I thought of maybe looking in Port Angeles or even Seattle, but that could take months. I decided to try some internet dating sites. I knew I could easily answer the questionnaires in a way that would match me up to the type of women I usually dated. It wouldn't be difficult to find someone. It was keeping that particular someone that would be the challenge.

I'd been sitting at my desk at the clinic for a while checking out various website's questionnaires to make sure they were thorough enough to generate the kind of matches I wanted, when a call interrupted my search. I removed the phone from my holster; it was Alice.

"Hey, Alice, how are you?" I answered, smiling.

"I'm good, actually, really good. I am doing much better," she sighed happily. "How about you, E?"

"Ehh, same as usual."

"Not for long," she spoke mischievously.

"What's this about?"

"Oh, not much. I just think I may have found you a new girlfriend, is all," she said, obviously smirking.

"Alice, what are you planning?" I groaned internally, thinking about the kind of girls Alice associated with in her youth. I was not interested in dating any of her airhead friends with their daddy issues and shopping addictions.

"I met her in AA, but she's amazing, Edward. She's nice and funny. She's a talented artist. I think she's maybe 27 or 28; anyway, she is Charlie Swan's daughter, Bella," she said, her voice filled with excitement.

Funny and artistic weren't qualities that the type of woman I'd dated in the past usually possessed, but the fact that she was a recovering alcoholic sounded closer to what I was looking for. The more broken the woman was, the more insecure and the less likely she would be to notice my own short-comings.

I hadn't expected to actually find a suitable girlfriend here in Forks. I figured I could take it as a sign that a nice single woman moved here just as I began looking for someone to date. I figured it couldn't hurt to at least see if she met my criteria.

"Sure, Alice, it's been a while since I've dated anyone. I guess I'm getting a little too old to play the bachelor game, huh," I joked.

"Great, you can meet her tonight then. We are going to her house for a painting party," she ordered.

"I can't tonight. I've got ton of paperwork from the clinic," I replied, disappointed because I actually did have paperwork. Faking normal the entire evening sounded much more appealing to me than doing that.

"Damn, I was hoping you'd be free. Well, promise me you'll meet her soon?" she pleaded.

"Of course, Alice, you know I'd do anything for my favorite sister," I teased.

"Jerk, I'm your only sister," she huffed in mock irritation.

After Alice and I got off the phone, I put away my laptop. The internet dating sites were momentarily forgotten while I thought about the ridiculous amount of paperwork I had to do. It was a distraction from the edginess I'd been feeling lately. Five weeks - that's how long it'd been since my last kill. I'd gone much longer and was able to function, but I'd probably need one soon if I was gonna be able to focus on properly dating someone.

I reached for the phone to call Emmett to see if he'd had any possible leads. He answered on the first ring.

"Edward, hey buddy, I got a real good one for yah," Emmett teased, and I could just picture him smirking over the phone. I sighed, frustrated. He always used these conversations as an opportunity to joke. I knew that if Carlisle couldn't stomach the monster, there was no way Emmett could. He made light of it, turned it into a game. I figured it was the only way he could cope with the fact that he was pretty much handing out death sentences.

"Go on," I pressed, hiding my relief with irritation.

"Well, Jasper just picked up this chick for murder, and now she's about to be released on bail. The thing is, she's been in before but there has never been enough evidence to convict. They're calling her The Black Widow because she's been killing these poor rich saps and getting their money. She's fucking hot though, man. Legs a mile long, big tits, you know. Anyway, she's out of here tonight. So, what do you think?" he asked excitedly.

"I haven't hunted a woman in a long time, not since the one who drowned her kids in the bathtub, but yeah, I'm up for it," I replied, barely containing my excitement. It had been too long since Emmett and I'd had a good solid lead and I was getting a little too anxious lately.

"I'll save you some recon work, bro. She's always at this club - picking up men, I'm guessing. Anyways, I saw her there a few times, before Jasper's boys arrested her. I think you could pick her up, you know, instead of hiding in dumpsters and alleys like a fucking creep," he chuckled.

I wasn't sure how I felt about picking her up in public. A club would be easy, I supposed. Most people would be too fucked up to notice her leaving with me, and if she was there as often as Emmett said, no one would think anything of it. It sounded like an exciting hunt, too. It was rare that I could use my physical appearance to snare my prey. Emmett was right; I did often find myself in alleys and dumpsters. I guess I could use this as an opportunity to practice my charm before entering the dating scene again.

"Yeah, ok, sounds good," I feigned nonchalance.

"I'll let you know when I get the file ready for you, bro."

Why he insisted on calling me bro, I'd never know.

"Oh, you gotta go with Ali and me tonight. Ma and Jasper will be there too. We are going to Bel-" he started, but I interrupted.

"Yea, Alice already tried to get me to go, but I'm too busy," I said, resigned to the fact that I was going to be doing fucking paperwork for the next eight hours.

"Shit, well I wanted you to meet Rosie, you know, Ms. Hale, the file clerk," he said sounding a little disappointed.

"You're dating her now?" I said with mock disgust. "What is she like, forty, Emmett?"

"Fuck no, man, she's younger than Alice. Just because I called her Ms. Hale for a while doesn't mean she's an old woman," he replied smugly.

"Whatever, Emmett. Listen, you know I told you Dad's been on me to start dating again. He said it looks too suspicious for a doctor my age to be unattached. You know how he is about blending in. Well, Alice thinks I would like Bella, but you know the kind of friends Alice usually has. If you don't mind, let me know what she's like, so I know if she's worth pursuing," I requested, hoping that he wouldn't use this situation as an opportunity to tease me.

"Yeah, sure whatever. Well, I gotta go. I'm picking up Rosie and Jasper on my way to Forks for the weekend. I'll see you tomorrow night, and we can discuss Bella and look over the file for The Black Widow," he agreed.

After getting off the phone with Emmett, I began working on my paperwork. I found my thoughts drifting to Bella and I wondered if maybe she'd be the one. What if Alice was right? Could I successfully hide my nature and have a wife and kids? I was getting ahead of myself. I hadn't even met her and this whole relationship business was Carlisle's idea, not mine. I didn't even have to consider it if I didn't want to. I decided just to wait and see what Emmett thought of her before I devoted any more of my thoughts to the woman.

It was nearly 11:00pm by the time I finished my paperwork. I thought of calling Emmett, as I was both anxious to hear about my next victim as well as my potential date. Emmett was probably still at the party. I was patient, I could wait.

Every day I would wake up at 6:00am. I believed in taking care of myself and a balanced diet and rigorous exercise routine. In the morning if my face was a little puffy, I'd put on an ice pack while doing stomach crunches – at least a three hundred. I had to be able to lift and move heavy lifeless bodies, so I would do one hundred fifty pull-ups and push-ups. After I did my weight training, for cardio, I would jog five miles on the treadmill. I usually got done about 7:30. I showered and dressed in pressed khaki slacks with a white shirt and tie; red or black - depending on my mood.

Today was a red day. I was excited. I arrived at the office at 8:00am and began testing. I was studying the effects of a new protein I'd developed to treat a blood disorder. Time passed quickly when I was doing research. Before I realized, it was already 3:00pm and way past my lunchtime. I figured, since Emmett was in town and always hungry, he'd be up for lunch, and then we could discuss The Black Widow and Bella.

I decided to meet Emmett at the diner for lunch. We could talk about Bella there, in public, but we'd have to discuss my next kill somewhere more private. Emmett arrived fifteen minutes late, and he looked like he was drunk. His clothes were disheveled, his hair in disarray, and his nose and cheeks were rosier than usual.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I seethed through clenched teeth in a low tone only he could hear.

"Hey, what's with hostility, bro?" he said, sounding much more coherent than I'd expected.

"Are you drunk?" I asked, more calmly than before.

"No, I'm not fucking drunk. Well, maybe a little _pussy-drunk_, if yah know what I mean. Rosie kept up all night last night. I went down on her for at least an hour. Fuck, I'm gonna get wood just thinking about it," he half groaned with a stoned look on his face. I didn't even try to hide the look of disgust on mine. Emmett knew I didn't like to hear the details of his exploits, and how much more inept he was at sex than me.

Only on two occasions had a woman ever seemed to really enjoy having sex with me. They were the two one night stands I'd had in med school. Eight months – it was the longest I'd gone without a kill since I'd started. I had hoped something primal like fucking would take the edge off. It hadn't helped much, but it was distraction nonetheless. On these occasions, the women I'd been with weren't really looking for an emotional connection. I had basically been a glorified sex-toy.

"Okay, thanks for the information," I muttered sarcastically. "Can we please just talk about last night and order lunch? I'm starving."

"Hey, you brought it up," he smirked. I clenched my fists in irritation. Sometimes Emmett was little too much.

Edna, our waitress, came by to take our orders. Emmett ordered a greasy heart-attack-waiting-to-happen double bacon cheeseburger, chili cheese fries, and a Dr. Pepper. I opted for the light tuna on whole wheat toast, with a fresh fruit bowl and a bottle of water. Even without the whole serial killer thing, Emmett and I couldn't have been any more different. I was amazed we got along at all.

"So, tell me about Bella," I said, trying to get to the point.

"She's a strange one, really sexy though. She's petite, a brunette, nice body, perky tits, and a tight little ass. I can tell she works out," he offered.

"Emmett, is that all you learned about her - the way she looks? You know I have criteria. Don't fuck around. Do you think she would be a good match?" I asked, slightly exasperated. I knew he was bating me, testing my patience, and it was working. "Wait, what did you mean when you said she was strange?" I asked curiously.

"Well, she seemed all right for most of the night. She was polite and friendly. I know she's got money, since she's a pretty famous artist. Alice said some her paintings sell for over a hundred thousand dollars. That's the thing, though, the strange part. Rosie found one of her paintings last night. It was fucked up, bro," he said in a strange tone. "Alice likes her paintings, but this one, the one we saw; it was different."

Traditional art rarely appealed to me. I could find art in my craft and my research, but Picasso, DaVinci, and Monet; I didn't see the appeal. I knew it had to do with my emotionlessness. I just never saw the beauty others could - I didn't feel it. If Emmett was disturbed by her painting, I wondered what I would think about it.

To Emmett, all thoughts of Bella were forgotten once lunch arrived. He shoveled in the fries as if Carlisle and Esme had never taught him any manners. I smiled and shook my head at his strange behavior.

Even though Emmett hadn't really told me what I needed to know about Bella to make a decision, I decided I'd call Alice and agree to let her set us up. Maybe we'd go on a blind date or something. Whatever happened needed to happen after my next kill. I needed to get my edge back first.

Emmett and I finished our meals and we walked out to his Land Rover to look over The Black Widow case. Once we were inside the vehicle, he handed over the file.

Emmett was good. He'd managed to get me photos of each of the victims and a few of my victim. Tanya Denali had been married five times, and four of those ended with the husband dying of a heart-attack and with her gaining millions.

The last time she killed, she made a mistake. Homicide was able to link her to the purchase of a pharmaceutical drug. The drug, if taken in large doses, would basically cause the user to have a heart-attack. Its chemical make-up was such that all traces of it we gone from the body within 20 hours. Since the previous victims' autopsies had been performed after the chemical was gone, there had been no reason to suspect foul play.

The last victim had been discovered while he was having the heart-attack and had been rushed to the E.R. He died on the operating table. Circumstances just worked out that his autopsy had been performed within enough time to find traces of the drug in his system.

Tanya pleaded innocent for her conviction hearing and her bail was set. Tanya had plenty of money from her previous marriages and was able to cover the cost. She would have been better off in jail until her trial than on the streets. For me, she was an open target with a nice big bulls-eye on her chest. I was going to have some fun with this one.

I worked in the clinic during the week as I normally did. Tuesday night, I drove to Seattle to do a little recon work on Tanya. I found her penthouse apartment and was thankful that it was close to the club I planned to pick her up at on Friday.

Emmett called on Wednesday. He was thrilled that he'd finally been promoted to detective and was being transferred to homicide. This was going to make things so much easier. There would be no more waiting three or four months between kills. I'd be looking at maybe a kill every month. The prospect was exciting.

Esme and Carlisle were proud and wanted to have the whole family over for dinner on Saturday to celebrate the promotion. I was glad they hadn't planned it for Friday so I would be able to take care of Tanya before the dinner.

I called Alice later that day to let her know I was interested in going on a blind date with Bella. She told me that wouldn't be necessary since Bella would be at the dinner on Saturday. I wasn't worried. I knew by then Tanya Denali would be with the rest of my victims - in the bottom of the ocean. I'd be able to relax and wear the happy well-adjusted son disguise to the family gathering with very little effort.

"Tonight's the night," I murmured to myself while looking in the mirror. I wasn't wearing my usual hunting clothes this evening. I was playing a new game, a different game. I was going to use myself as bait.

I had driven to Seattle early that day and went to the Armani boutique to get what I needed to capture my prey. I needed to appear wealthy. I actually was wealthy, but I didn't flaunt it by wearing expensive name-brand clothing. There could be no evidence to prove I was in Seattle today so I paid in cash, and gassed up my Volvo in Port Angeles.

I had considered breaking into Tanya's apartment, but changed my mind because I wasn't certain she'd take the bait. I opted for the empty penthouse across the hall. I'd checked with the realtor and discovered that they were still repainting it, and the apartment wouldn't be ready for another week. It was perfect.

I had my tools, my nice new Armani suit and shoes, and a couple of rolls of plastic sheeting, all packed up nice and neat into my duffle bag. I broke in to the rear entrance of the building, careful to avoid the cameras, and snuck up the stairs instead of the elevator. I knew I wouldn't be taking Tanya in through the front door, because as soon as I had her in my car she'd be out like a light. If I was being honest with myself, I really didn't need to go through all this trouble, but I did love the theatrics of my plan - anything to make the game more exciting.

After setting up the kill room, I used the bathroom to get ready. I dressed in the $3,500.00 suit and shoes, and spritzed myself with my own D&G cologne from home. My hair needed to say 'I just got fucked', so I used a little wax in it to give it a lift and the look of controlled chaos. That's what I was - controlled chaos - and now that phrase described my hair. I looked pretty damn good.

I knew I was attractive, or I wouldn't have even tried to do this. I could tell by the images of the men Tanya had killed that she wasn't in it for the looks. Some of the men she'd fucked over were pretty gross. Even though she probably wasn't going to try her game again while out on bail, she'd probably be looking for some hot guy to fuck, a change from all the dogs' she'd been with lately. If I appealed to her, it would make the game that much more exiting.

I entered the packed club and ordered a ginger ale on the rocks. It could pass for something harder, scotch and soda maybe. A drink in hand would complete the façade. I was fairly certain she would be here, based on Emmett's intel; she came here every Friday night, even when she was married.

I spotted her easily. She was out on the dance floor grinding against various men, not really sticking with anyone in particular. When the beat changed, I saw her wipe the sheen of sweat from her brow. She was hot and undoubtedly thirsty. I'd be waiting at the bar to buy her some fruity cocktail – preferably, her last.

She was approaching the bar, eyes heavy lidded, and her hips swaying to the beat. Emmett wasn't joking about her appearance. She was every other man's wet dream but mine. I approached her from the side before the bartender had seen her. I laid the charm on thick.

"Hey, beautiful, can I buy you a drink?" I purred seductively. She trained her eyes on my smirking face for a moment, and then trailed them down my body slowly, taking everything in. She licked her lips. I wasn't sure if she'd done it purposefully or not.

"Sure," she said, suddenly feigning indifference, even though the appraising look she'd given me before told me she was attracted to me. She was playing hard to get. This game was getting more exciting by the minute.

"Would you like me to order for you?" I offered smoothly.

"Go ahead," she smiled slightly. I waited a moment for the bartender to come over and watched Tanya out of the corner of my eye. I noticed she was subtly preening herself - smoothing out her skirt, and adjusting her breasts. I knew I had her then. I decided I wasn't going to play coy with her. I was going to make my false intentions known. The bartender approached.

"I'll have another of these, and for the lady, a Screaming Orgasm – my treat." I smirked at her surprised face. The bartender chuckled and walked away to make our drinks.

"That's awfully presumptuous of you, don't you think?" she smirked back, but she wasn't saying no to me. I could tell with Tanya, cocky was the way to play the game.

"I know what I want, and I always get what I want," I smiled, batting my eyelashes a bit before taking a sip of my ginger ale.

"I didn't catch your name," she said, dismissing my previous statement.

"It's Bateman, Patrick Bateman," I lied, and smiled a half smile. She was about to open her mouth to introduce herself when another leggy blonde walked over and began kissing her fully on the mouth. They kissed for several seconds, while I waited for the shock to wear off.

"Who's your friend, Tanya?" the blonde said, slurring a bit.

"This is Patrick," she purred and then started kissing the blonde on the neck. She moved to her earlobe and started whispering in the blonde's ear. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but it didn't matter. My plan was fucked, if her drunken friend didn't get lost.

"Patrick here is going to give me a screaming orgasm. What do you think, Patrick, can you give Irina one, too?" she said seductively. _Fuck._ I had to get out of here.

"Will you two excuse me one moment?" I said pretending to take a phone call. I walked away from the two women, and continued the charade for another minute and half. When I returned they were all over each other. Tanya's hand reached out to caress my thigh and she was sliding it closer and closer to my flaccid cock. That would be a dead giveaway. I took a step back.

"I'm very sorry, ladies, but there is an emergency in my office. I would love to take you both up on a rain check. Will you be back next Friday?" I asked in mock hopefulness. Tanya wouldn't be dead tonight, but she wouldn't be here next week. I'd make sure of that.

I made my way back to Seattle knowing that I'd just have to return the following night to take care of Tanya, the good old fashioned way. At least I'd gotten a nice new suit out of the game. I considered wearing it on my next date, perhaps with Bella - if she met my standards.

When I made it into my apartment, I was feeling edgy, anxious even. Had everything gone according to plan, then at this point, I would have been in the Pacific dropping Tanya's shrink-wrapped dismembered corpse into the murky depths of the ocean. I realized that I was going to have to go to dinner tomorrow with the anxiety of not having fulfilled The Code. I was fairly certain I could stay composed. What other choice did I have?

On Saturday, time passed slowly. I could hardly focus on my research, which resulted in me ruining several test samples, and dropping my full coffee mug onto the floor. I was starting to lose it.

"Goddamnit," I muttered through clenched teeth at the mess on the floor. Ben, my assistant looked taken aback by reaction.

"Chill, Eddie. You got pussy problems or something? She ain't worth it, man," he smirked and waggled his brows at me suggestively. If Ben wasn't such a genius I'd get a new assistant. I'd always thought that Ben would have been a more suitable brother for Emmett than I ever was. Damn perverts.

"Yea, something like that," I smirked back, pretending to be amused by his chauvinistic comments. I went to the supply closet to get a mop, broom, some towels, and cleanser.

"Can I help you?" a gravelly voice spoke from behind me while I was gathering the towels.

"Just, getting some stuff to clean up a mess I made," I said, smiling politely at the unfamiliar face.

"Well, you should have come to me. It's my job, sir," he said coolly.

"Hey, if you want to help, I won't argue," I chuckled. He furrowed his brow at me a moment before smiling and grabbing the mop from my hands.

"Where is this mess, Dr. Cullen?" he asked with raised brows.

"In my lab -" I paused, waiting for his name.

"It's, Laurent, sir," he advised, and then followed me into the lab to help me clean up the mess I'd made.

The rest of the afternoon passed uneventfully. When I arrived at my apartment, I knew I needed something to calm me down. I walked into my bedroom over to the floor vent for the central air system and unscrewed the grate. Inside was my little box of trophies. I grabbed it from its hiding place, and opened it quickly. I sighed at the sense of relief that passed over me as I revered the slides of blood. I could recall each one as if they'd happened today, not over the course of the last ten years. Unfortunately I didn't have trophies from all my victims, as I didn't start collecting them until I was in med school. I still remembered each and every kill with clarity, nonetheless.

It was an hour until I needed to leave for my parents, so I proceeded to get ready. I wanted to make a good first impression, so I opted to wear the Armani trousers with one of my white button dress shirts I usually wore to work. Wanting to look casual, I rolled up the sleeves. As usual I began to comb my hair down taming it, until I remembered the way Tanya had appreciated my appearance last night. I actually liked the way my hair had looked, so I grabbed the wax from my still packed duffle bag and proceeded to style my hair back into the controlled chaos it had been the night before. I didn't look as sharp as I had then, but I still looked good.

It was a little after eight when I arrived, and it looked like everyone had already arrived. It was likely that the unfamiliar black Audi in the drive was Bella's. I eyed it for a moment, noticing the dent in the side of the otherwise pristine car, and wondered if Bella had been in some kind of accident. I could tell it wasn't serious, so I didn't think of it further.

I walked into my parent's home feeling a sense of unease, knowing I'd have to see Carlisle. Whenever we were together and the family was around he put up a front, not unlike me. I learned from the best. I knew tonight would be no different.

I walked into the living room where Emmett was seated on the couch with a voluptuous blonde perched atop his lap, chatting animatedly to someone in the chair across from her. I couldn't see who she was speaking to, but by her tone she was obviously excited about something.

"I would buy one, if I could afford it. I'd hang it in my living room, even if it scared my parents," she chuckled at the person across from her.

"Honestly, there are very few people willing to buy those pieces. I may have to put them on clearance if I can't sell them soon," she said in a low, soft voice that I didn't recognize. I realized that the soft voice must have come from Bella.

"Hey, big bro," Emmett bellowed, announcing my presence. The blonde looked up at me, eyed me appreciatively, and smiled. I managed a friendly smile and nodded to her in greeting.

"Hello," I walked slowly and calmly over to Rosalie and Emmett. I still hadn't heard Bella say another word.

"This is Rosie, Eddie," Emmett smirked at me and then began to lewdly waggle his tongue. She was looking at me so she didn't notice the gesture, but the tiny gasp from behind me alerted me that Bella had. _Fucking perverted jerk._ I kept a poker face as if I hadn't just seen my brother allude to licking pussy behind his girlfriend's back and in front of a woman he barely knew.

"Rosie-" I started.

"Rosalie, please," she requested in a sugary tone.

"Edward, please. I despise being called Eddie," I smiled politely and then shot a pointed glance at Emmett.

"This is Bella, Eddie," Emmett said, ignoring my not so subtle hint to stop using the juvenile nickname. I hid the scowl that threatened to erupt on my face, and turned to see Bella.

I regarded her but she didn't meet my glance, she was looking down at her lap. I followed her gaze to see her hands balled into fists in her lap and then back up to her face to see her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. She was too shy to look at me. _Jackpot_.

"Hello, Bella, it's a pleasure," I said making my voice as smooth as honey, wanting her to feel it flow over her like silk. I held out my hand for her to take it, but her fists only tightened turning her knuckles white.

"Hello, Edward," she whispered, "it's nice to meet you too."

I was about to attempt making small talk with her when she finally looked up at me and met my glance. My words caught in my throat and a bit of a wheezing sound came out. I then began to cough a bit. She looked at me with reddened cheeks and eyes that were filled with concern. _Her eyes_ - they were dark, deep and sad. They made my chest clench for a brief second, which is what caused my little fit.

"Will you excuse me for a moment," I half choked, half spoke. When I finally stopped coughing, I made my way to the kitchen where Esme stood with Alice and Jasper removing dinner items from the fridge and oven. Carlisle was setting the table and arranging the folded napkins neatly at each person's place setting.

I heard a shrill squeal and then tiny arms wrapped around my waist.

"Hey, Alice," I smiled warmly at my tiny adopted sister, now that I had some composure.

"I haven't seen you in weeks!" she said excitedly, before playfully jabbing me in the ribs.

I didn't respond to her comment, opting to ruffle her hair a bit. Jasper walked over and shook my hand smiling warmly.

"Oh, Edward, did you meet Bella?" she asked enthusiastically.

* * *

More E/B coming up next week, with Bella's POV

Also, in case you didn't recognize it, Edward's fake name was that of Patrick Bateman, the serial killer from Bret Easton Ellis's American Psycho.

Please review and maybe, just maybe Edward will give you a Screaming Orgasm!


	5. The Cullens

**Edward Cullen: Confessions of a Serial Killer**

**~SoapyMayhem**

Thanks to my beta Twimarti for her superb help in getting this fic ready!

Disclaimer: Twilight, Dexter, and all publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning **This story is going to be very violent, and in a later chapter will have a non-sensational depiction of rape. Rated M for a reason.

I really appreciate all the great reviews! The response to this story has been amazing. Edward and Bella finally meet in this chapter, enjoy

* * *

**Chapter 4 ** The Cullens ****

****Bella Swan****

**Paradise Circus - Massive Attack**  
_  
It's unfortunate that when we feel a storm,  
we can roll ourselves over 'cause we're uncomfortable_

_Oh well the devil makes us sin_

_But we like it when we're spinning, in his grin._

_Love is like a sin my love  
For the ones that feels it the most_

_Look at her with her eyes like a flame_

**** October 15, 2009 ****

"Goddamnit," I cursed, as a shiny blue BMW convertible blindly backed out of the parking space and slammed into the side of my pristine, practically brand new Audi. I slammed on my brakes, effectively blocking the inattentive driver of said BMW from leaving. My hands were shaking slightly as I fumbled around in my purse for my insurance card and cell phone. As I searched, a well-tanned blonde man, who looked like he'd stepped out of an American Eagle catalog, sauntered over to my car door. He peered into my window expectantly, increasing my anxiety.

"Get out of the car," he rudely commanded while knocking on my window.

"Excuse me?" I asked in disbelief, most likely looking completely bewildered.

"We need to exchange insurances, so get out of the car," he said in a calm tone but was still too demanding for being the party at fault.

I didn't argue with him and proceeded to open my door. As I stepped out of the vehicle, I felt his eyes raking over me. I looked up at him hesitantly and felt nothing but anxiety when I was met with his cold blue eyes. I immediately felt defensive, and knew I'd need to calm down to avoid an altercation.

"I'm sure you're wondering, the name is Michael Newton, of Newton's Outdoors," he smirked as if I would fall to my knees in recognition of his name.

"Okay, _Michael_. Well, you just rammed into my car and I think we need to report the accident to the police. Have you called them, or shall I?" I asked irritably, ignoring the lingering gaze that was not so subtly fixated on my breasts.

"I'm sure we can figure something out," he replied in a saccharine voice. He began to inch his way toward me, and with every step my anxiety level was raising higher and higher.

"I, uhh, I will just call the police now. If you'll excuse me," I said shakily, backing away while reaching out for my phone.

"Hey, now, sugar, wait just a second," he said in a calm tone but through clenched teeth. I turned to get into my car when I felt a firm grip grasp my elbow. My vision went red. There was a flash fire of adrenaline coursing through my veins and my fist clenched reflexively. _Be calm, Bella. Be good. Relax_. My thoughts replayed the chant over and over, knowing this time it wasn't going to help. I began to shake, and his grip only tightened on me.

"What do you want from me?" I barely managed to speak coherently through what must have sounded like a growl.

"I want to make your wildest dreams come true," he half groaned and then pressed his obvious erection against me. At that moment, I felt the last remnant of control snap.

A snarl ripped through me and it was like I'd left my body. I felt as though I were witnessing someone else. In my mind's eye, I could see a woman who looked like me, except for her rage marred face as she scratched the Ken-doll like man across his cheek leaving angry red trails. In obvious shock, he let go of her and clutched his face. She used his bewilderment as an opportunity to knee him in the groin. I watched as her elbow came down suddenly, meeting the back of his doubled over form. The blow caused him to fall that much quicker.

I only felt as though I'd returned to my body when I cranked my car and drove quickly from the parking lot. Feeling a bit more concerned, I allowed myself a brief glimpse in the rear view mirror to see he was still lying on the concrete. I briefly wondered if Michael might press charges against me. If his hesitancy for me to call the police was any indication, I figured it was unlikely he'd retaliate over a scratched face and a bruised nut-sack. I just had to hold onto hope that he'd be too humiliated to do anything about it.

It was quite early in the day for me to be brutalizing random dickheads, so I abandoned my idea to pick up a dessert for the Cullen's, hoping they wouldn't have expected it anyways. I couldn't stand to be in public at this moment; I needed to retreat to the sanctuary of my studio, and then take a nice hot shower to wash the away the disgust I felt over that asshole touching me.

I walked slowly, hesitantly into the house and up the stairs to the master bathroom, peeling off the clothes I'd been wearing. I wanted to burn them. Once I was in the shower, I curled up under the stream, wrapped my arms around my knees, and sobbed. The shower washed away all traces of my tears but couldn't hide my angry, red-rimmed eyes. I knew I'd need to relieve some tension if I was going to make it to the Cullens for dinner tonight without having a nervous breakdown.

The studio was dark except for the lamp I'd left on illuminating the painting I'd done of Jasper. I shook my head, realizing just how fucked up I really was. I felt dumb to think that I could come here and pretend things would change. Even Alice was disturbed by what she saw in my paintings. She may as well have said that she was disturbed by me. She hadn't treated me any differently since she saw it, but what would she think if she knew I'd painted her husband?

I couldn't even explain why I'd painted him, other than the fact that I was fascinated by his scar. _Oh, Alice, I only depicted your husband being murdered because he has such an awesomely fucked up scar._ I'm sure that would go over just peachy.

I could never let any of them see what I'd done. I wanted - no, needed - friends. Since I'd met Alice and her family, I'd barely wanted a drink, until this moment. After my altercation with Michael 'the prick' Newton, all I wanted to do was wash down my anger with a bottle of Grey Goose. Thank fuck that Forks was in a dry county. I had to paint now or I was going to lose it.

As much as I hated to imagine him, I remembered Mike Newton's cocky face as it twisted in pain while my nails dug into his cheek. I let all the anger, the hate, the fear, and the anxiety all pour out of me and onto the canvas. I wouldn't detach from myself as I had in the parking lot. This time, I let the violence I'd committed consume me, just feeling the way my fingernails sliced into his flesh, the way my knee slammed into the fragile place between his legs, and finally the way my elbow felt as it came down on the middle of his back between his shoulder blades. I could almost feel the whoosh of air that cooled my skin as his body fell fast against the pavement.

Mike's death would be slow at the hand of my painted killer.

When I'd finished, I checked the clock to see that it was nearly 5:00pm and I was expected at the Cullen's home at 6:30pm for dinner. A few moments later, my cell phone rang from inside my purse. _Alice_.

"Hello, Alice," I spoke brightly, trying to sound cheerful.

"Hey, Bella, you're still coming tonight, right?" she asked hopefully.

"Umm, yeah, I planned on it. Did I need to bring something? Because I thought about bringing a dessert, but then I figured Esme would have probably made one," I spoke quickly, feeling anxious.

"Calm, down B, it's just my family. You've already met everyone but my dad and Edward. Everyone else already likes you. You'll be fine, and no, you don't have to bring anything. Mom always makes too much," I could hear her smiling throughout her reassurance. I felt myself relax a little, hoping that things would work out.

I just hoped that no one would try to touch me. After today's incident, I didn't think I could handle another. Fuck, I hadn't really handled the first one. Alice reassured me that things would be fine, and I had to believe her if I was going to make this new life work.

I took Jake out to use the bathroom and then went upstairs to get dressed for the party. If I was being honest with myself, I felt like shit and wasn't really up for it. I retrieved a simple black cocktail dress from my closet to wear. Feeling too formal, I dressed it down with a grey cardigan sweater, grey leggings, and a pair of black ballet flats. I pulled my hair into a high pony-tail, leaving loose strands to frame my face. I applied some shimmering translucent powder, mascara, and lip gloss. I looked in the mirror, and I looked normal. _On the outside_. No one could see the inside, only the reflection residing in my paintings.

It was almost time to go, so I poured Jake some kibble and a dish of water, and left the TV on to keep him company.

As soon as I walked past the ugly mark on my beautiful car, I felt the anger and tension swell up in me again. It took a minute to calm down enough so that I didn't try to rip the car door off its hinges. I played some music on the way to help calm me down since I didn't have a paint brush or glass of vodka to help me along. I followed my GPS and the address Alice provided to the dead end street that became the Cullen's driveway.

The house was impressive, a classic Victorian style that seemed so inviting. I felt some of the tension roll off me as I approached the door. Before I could knock, Alice was standing there ready to envelope me in a warm embrace. I had never been hugged so many times in my life.

Alice introduced me to her father, Carlisle. Much to my relief, he made no move to hug me or shake my hand. I was thankful. Looking at Carlisle, I realized that he and Alice looked very much alike except for Alice's black hair and his blonde. Emmett, however, looked very much like Esme; same hazel eyes, caramel brown hair, and dimpled cheeks.

I wondered whom Edward might resemble. I imagined him blonde, like Carlisle. Suddenly, a memory of blonde flashed through my mind. My earlier altercation with Michael Newton had me worried that Edward might resemble that asshole trapped in the body of the blonde boy-next-door type. I knew it was irrational - I hadn't beaten the shit out of Edward, nor had he assaulted me. I hadn't even met the guy. I couldn't help but worry, though. What if Newton was a friend of the Cullens, or even a relative of theirs? _In such a small town, you never know._

Alice recognized my silent panic and grasped my shoulder comfortingly.

"Are you are right, honey?" she asked concerned.

"Mm, yes, I'm fine. A little tired, that's all," I managed a convincing smile.

Rosalie then appeared from the kitchen with Emmett in tow as if it were her home and not his family's. Again, I received another kiss from her on the cheek, and a nod and a big grin from Emmett. I couldn't help but notice that neither Emmett, his father, nor Jasper had made any attempts at touching me. I briefly wondered if maybe I was giving off some kind of warning signal that I wasn't aware of - as if I were a dangerous predator.

Making sure no one could sit beside me, I found a single chair across from the large couch Emmett and Rosalie had taken.

"Bella, I hope you don't mind, but Jasper and I are going to help Mom and Dad finish dinner," she asked warily. I waived her off in a nonchalant manner so she didn't feel as though she was expected to stand there and hold my hand.

"Bella, you have to let me come by and see your paintings soon," Rosalie pressed excitedly.

"Oh, umm sure," I spoke an awkward reply. It was so strange that a woman who looked like Rosalie would have such a response to my art. She seemed so superficial.

"I umm… Googled you, and I saw more of your paintings like the other one from your last show. They were astonishing. I would buy one if could afford it. I'd hang it in my living room, even if it scared my parents," she prattled on kissing my ass, likely in hope that her flattery would get her a private first look at Bella Swan's fucked up nightmare. I tried to be as polite as possible, all the while playing down my paintings. The last thing I want was for Alice's former F.B.I. agent father to think I was some kind of psychopath.

"Honestly, there are very few people willing to buy those pieces. I may have to put them on clearance if I can't sell them soon," I muttered slightly sarcastically.

All thoughts of my paintings momentarily halted as footsteps approached from behind me. My body tensed reflexively, wondering who had approached. I knew it couldn't have been Alice or her parents since the kitchen was in the other direction. As my finger hovered over my inner panic-button, Emmett boomed out a greeting to the person behind me.

"Hey, big bro," Emmett shouted excitedly. I looked up and noticed Alice was poking her annoying little head out of the kitchen and winking at me. That little shit was gonna get a piece of my mind after dinner tonight. _Fuck_. I realized it was Edward behind me, and for all I knew he was expecting Alice's promised "hook up". I glanced up to see Edward, but he was facing away from me being introduced to Rosalie. I may have audibly gasped when I saw the back of his extremely well built body. He was tall and muscular like a basketball player, and was bent slightly forward to greet Rosalie. At that angle he was practically presenting his perfect ass for my viewing pleasure. Up until a few years ago, I'd had an appreciation for the beauty of the human body. Certain circumstances had caused me to forget about lust and attraction. Edward's ass alone was a delicious reminder.

It took me a moment to realize what was happening. I was actually ogling the ass of a perfect stranger, not to mention the fact that I could become a violent mess if the man so much as breathed on me wrong. I felt myself retreating for a moment, until I realized he was speaking. His voice was like velvet - smooth and confident. I bit my lip and clenched my fists, hoping he wouldn't try to touch me.

"Hello, Bella, it's a pleasure," he spoke in a voice that caused a rush of desire to flow to my panties. _What the fuck was wrong with me?_ I clenched my fists tighter as a graceful hand moved into my peripheral and the desire that had filled me momentarily was replaced with anxiety.

Not wanting to be rude, I barely managed to whisper out a reply to his greeting. In that second, I realized that I had already been rude - extremely rude. I'd ignored his handshake, ogled his ass, and hadn't even bothered to look at him. I was so fucking pathetic. These people were going to realize how much of a freak I was if I didn't pull myself together and act normal.

I glanced up at Edward, hoping that maybe a kind smile would keep him from seeing how crazy I was. Before I could slip my mask in place, I looked up at him. If his reaction was any indication, I knew he'd seen my forlorn expression. His eyes widened, inexplicably. He began to choke on something - air, or spit maybe, whatever. I was sure he'd be fine. What I wasn't sure about was how I was going to stop the ache that was now building up between my thighs at the sight of his stunningly inhuman face.

Jade green eyes were set above high cheekbones and a perfectly chiseled jaw. The sexy mop of penny-colored hair in no way resembled the bottle blonde douche cut Michael Newton had been sporting. This man was beautiful, even if he was choking. Simultaneously, I wanted to pat him on the back, pull down his pants, and hide in the corner. My face blushed feverishly at the thought of pulling his sexy Armani slacks down to his ankles.

I blinked a few times, and realized the beautiful man was no longer standing there. Emmett had begun texting on his phone and Rosalie was staring at me, smirking as if she knew some secret I wasn't privy to.

I shrugged it off and decided that I'd take a cue from Emmett and bide my time texting, even though I had no one to text but Alice. It seemed a bit ridiculous to text someone in the next room, so I faked it. I faked it until the three of us were requested to the dining room for dinner.

I found my seat when I noticed the place card that had my name printed in a delicate script. I had been seated between Alice and Esme, and for that I was grateful. I realized that everyone was seated except for Emmett and Edward. Since the only open seats were across from me or next to Rosalie, I knew where Edward would be. Fucking meddlesome Alice. I glared at her covertly and she just shrugged a bit.

I knew Alice meant well, but since she wasn't aware of my real issues; she had no way of knowing what an uncomfortable position she'd put me in.

If I was ever lucky enough to have a man as beautiful and as incredibly attractive as Edward want me, I'd have to fucking turn him down. I practically cringed at the idea of trying to share an intimate moment while in my current mental condition. I could only picture two people masturbating in front of each other, neither touching for the other's sake.

As hot as that sounded, especially when I pictured one of those people as Edward, I knew that it wouldn't work in the long term. I'd given up on sex a long time ago. If only my urges would listen.

Quietly, the chair slid across the floor and Edward sat gracefully in his seat. He glanced up at me and smiled a breathtaking grin, and I couldn't help but smile and blush in response. One smile from this guy and I was blushing like a damn teenager. I had to gain some composure.

I broke my gaze away from the stunning creature in front of me and turned it to the delicious looking dinner on my plate. As it turned out, the food rivaled some of the best meals I'd had, even the five-star restaurants.

The conversation flowed freely at the table, with Emmett bragging and Jasper calling him on his bullshit. Edward spoke seriously about the research he was involved with for finding a treatment for a life threatening blood disorder. Everyone seemed to have something to share, even Rosalie. I smiled and nodded when it was appropriate, but overall I was quiet, only speaking when I was directly addressed.

I would steal a few glances at Edward only to find him glancing up at me. A few times his expression was unreadable, but maybe after the third or fourth time he began to smile at me. I knew I was treading a fine line smiling back. I couldn't help it. I was much too attracted to him for my own good. It was almost painful the way my body reacted to him. He was making me feel things no man had made me feel in years.

I was jolted back to reality when I felt a nudge from Alice's knee bumping purposefully against mine. I looked up and everyone was looking at me expectantly.

"I'm sorry, what?" I sputtered slightly.

"I was just saying that I forgot to ask you about your show in a few weeks at the Foster White Gallery. My mother is the owner's personal assistant and she told me that they'd booked you," Rosalie spoke excitedly, while she simultaneously ruined my life. I definitely hadn't wanted the Cullens' to see the rest of my art. I closed my eyes for the briefest second to gain my composure before answering her.

"Oh, yes, my manager just told me he booked a show there for me. It's actually going to open Halloween night, so of course you're all welcome to come, if you can make it out to Seattle," I offered politely, knowing Alice would drag them all out there whether I invited them or not. It wasn't like they needed invitations to get in anyway.

"Of course we'll be there, Bella!" Alice practically vibrated in her seat. "We should all wear costumes, too!"

I gave Alice the best smile I could and then chanced a glance at Edward. He had the strangest expression on his face, but within a split second of noticing me looking at him, he replaced his expression with a panty soaking grin. With all the lust and embarrassment I felt, I could have just turned to jelly and slid down my seat and under the table.

There was no doubt in my mind that I was giving him the wrong signal. Blushing like a school girl, biting my lip, smiling shyly, and continued glances were not proper behavior for a freak like me who couldn't even be touched. I knew if Alice's pressure for me to meet Edward was any indication of her passion for matchmaking, she'd have undoubtedly given him the same pressure as she had to me.

I had to talk to Edward. He needed to know that I wasn't good for him. A nice, hot, single doctor didn't need to waste his time on someone with my issues. Fuck, I needed a goddamn martini so bad.

After dinner was finished we had some dessert. It was better than anything I would have brought.

We all stood up from the table and brought our coffee into the den. After a few minutes, Edward excused himself to use the restroom. I needed to take my chance to speak to him alone. I waited a minute before excusing myself as well. Alice grinned like the Cheshire cat at me, while I gave her a pointed glance.

When the bathroom door opened, I was met with a slightly anxious looking Edward, his eyes shifting a moment before landing back on me. I stood in the middle of the hall, effectively blocking him from returning to his family.

"Hello," he addressed me directly for the first time since before dinner.

"Hi," I smiled and blushed. We stood there a moment just studying each other, when I remembered that I had something to talk to him about. I opted to just get it over with.

"Edward, I'm sorry if I am being presumptuous, but Alice has been trying for a week to get me to meet you. I am certain she must have told you as well that she wants us to date," I started and he grinned at me, likely assuming I was about to ask him out or something.

"I hope she didn't give you the wrong idea, but I am not really in the right place in my life to be dating right now," I continued, frowning, hating that I couldn't give him a chance. I couldn't even look at him, after my pathetic little speech.

"Oh, well Bella, that's alright. I mean, I was planning to ask you out, but I understand if you aren't interested," he spoke kindly, but the edge of disappointment laced with his response couldn't have been ignored. It made my chest ache.

"God, no, I… fuck. Edward, I am attracted to you. It's just…" and then I fucking started to cry.

"I'm not good for you," I choked. What the fuck was I doing? This man I'd barely spoken to was reducing me to a quivering lusty mess of tears. In a moment, his hand was on my shoulder comfortingly. I felt the panic edge up again. It was nothing like the pure rage when Michael grabbed me, but caused wave after wave of anxiety to swell up in me. I shrugged him off and took a step back. When I looked up at him, he had the most stunned expression on his face, which quickly turned to one of what I could only describe as frustration. He wanted to comfort me and I'd pulled away. I must have seemed like such a bitch. I wiped at the tears on my cheeks.

"I have PTSD," I explained, ashamed.

A look of understanding washed over his face and he nodded solemnly.

"I don't react well to being touched," I clarified my symptoms. Internally, I was kicking myself for my lack of verbal filter. I simply wanted to let this man know that I was unavailable, and there I was about to practically tell him everything - all my secrets.

"Oh, well… umm. I understand Bella. Maybe we could just be friends?" he smiled, and there was no trace of the pity I'd expected from him.

"I'd like that," I whispered, and his smile turned to a grin.

"Why don't you take a minute to calm down and then join the others back in the den," he encouraged. I nodded and then went to the bathroom.

After I returned, I didn't stay much longer. Edward and I shared a brief smile and Alice promised to call me tomorrow. I escaped with hugs from Alice and Esme, and another kiss on the cheek from Rosalie. I clasped my hands behind me and said goodbye to the Cullen men and Jasper.

Time seemed to pass quickly on my way home. My thoughts were filled with Edward, and what I'd said to him. I began to panic when I realized that I'd shared something very personal with him before I'd told anyone else here. My fear was that he might talk to Alice about it assuming that my new best friend would already know about it. Alice would probably feel betrayed that I never said anything. I promised myself that I would tell her. I hoped she'd understand.

After walking Jake and changing my clothes, I ran downstairs to my studio. Inspiration had struck me. I could feel a change coming; something new, different, and maybe even good.

I ended up painting all night, and it was amazing.

By morning, all my energy was depleted and I was starving. Having been unable to do any grocery shopping because of yesterday's incident, I decided to drive to the diner Alice and I ate at over a week ago. I ordered a short stack, eggs over medium, crisp bacon and toast, with orange juice and a black coffee. I was almost done eating when I felt the atmosphere around me change. I looked up from the paper I'd been reading to see Edward standing there smiling at me, looking just as beautiful as he had the night before.

"Good morning," he grinned and my panties began to dampen.

"Morning," I smiled, and blushed over my lack of lust control where this man was concerned. "Would you like to join me?"

"Absolutely." He was the picture of ease and confidence. I couldn't imagine why someone like him seemed so disappointed that I couldn't date him.

He ordered his breakfast; an egg white omelet, dry toast, and a grapefruit half with coffee and a bottle of water. I frowned at my obviously unhealthy breakfast.

We sat in comfortable silence as we both read the paper, occasionally glancing at one another. It wasn't until Edward laid his paper down and turned to the left to ask the waitress for our check, that I noticed a streak of red.

"Edward, I think you have some blood on your neck."

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Holy Cliffie!

Review Please! The more reviews, the faster Edward will get to kill Tanya!


	6. Disguises

Thanks to my beta Twimarti for her superb help in getting this fic ready!

Disclaimer: Twilight, Dexter, and all publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning **This story is going to be very violent, and in a later chapter will have a non-sensational depiction of rape. Rated M for a reason.

I really appreciate all the great reviews! The response to this story has been amazing. Edward and Bella finally meet in this chapter, enjoy.

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**Chapter 5 *Disguises***

****Edward Cullen****

_Role playing was such an important part of growing up. When we were kids, whatever role Alice assigned me - evil monster, treacherous Nazi, horrible alien - I played them all to perfection. The only roles I had trouble with were the good guys, the heroes, the knights in shining armor. It just never felt right._

****October 15. 2009****

I sat at the table with my family, their significant others, and woman who managed to somehow make me nervous. Her entire demeanor had changed, from the time I'd seen her looking forlorn in the den, to now when she was smiling at me and blushing for whatever reason.

I knew I sometimes had that effect on women. At the clinic, some of the nurses would flirt incessantly, and I found myself having to politely turn them down and give my practiced speech about professionalism. Bella made me feel… conflicted. It was as if I wanted her to react that way, but at the same time keep her at an arm's length.

The information Emmett provided had given me the impression that Bella was shy and withdrawn. She certainly seemed that way at first. After her arrival at the dinner table, she was still quiet but suddenly preoccupied with staring at my face and gnawing on her bottom lip. My attempts at keeping up the pretenses of the average guy next door persona failed when she glanced up and caught me studying her seriously.

There was just something about her that I couldn't put my finger on. For the first time in quite a long time, I felt a true interest in something other than my work at the clinic and killing the bad guys. Still, I wasn't certain that she fit my 'dating profile' yet, but at this point, the fact that she was able to hold my interest throughout dinner was a good sign. I figured it couldn't hurt to ask her out.

One date - and if it didn't work out – I'd make up an excuse about being too busy at work then never call her again. Sure, I'd possibly see her with Alice on occasion, but I would simply be friendly and then excuse myself. She'd eventually see that I wasn't interested and move on. As lovely as she probably was, she could probably get just about any man she wanted. It wouldn't take long, and our brief encounter would be long forgotten

I had been sitting there lost in my thoughts when I realized Rosalie was talking about Bella's art.

"I've never seen anything so dark and fascinating. Who would have thought that that sweet little thing right there had it in her to paint a murder scene that looked so realistic and haunting? I saw several more pieces from her last show online. They were amazing," she prattled.

The weird clenching feeling in my chest was back again when I thought about what Rosalie had said. Had Bella actually painted scenes that depicted murders? It didn't happen very often, but I was stunned. Wondering what her reaction would be to Rosalie's comments, I glanced up at the woman who'd had so effortlessly drawn my curiosity.

She was staring off blankly, and I wondered if she even realized they were talking about her.

"Yes… It was a bit… frightening," Esme commented in a way that meant she'd likely been put off by what she'd seen. A part of me wanted to chuckle darkly at her reaction, but I was easily able to stop myself.

Wondering about his reaction, I glanced at Carlisle only to find him looking at Bella suspiciously. My instinct was to chastise him for his obvious train of thought. Just because someone painted something dark didn't mean you should sit there and try to profile a guest at the dinner table.

Turning my attention back to Bella, I studied her seriously and I just knew. Carlisle wouldn't find anything to be concerned about.

I wasn't naïve, far from it, because who knew better than I that appearances could be deceiving? With the variety of monsters I'd laid to rest, I could spot my kind a mile away. Bella wasn't one of them. She had the look of someone who was haunted. Those innocent, sad brown eyes were not the eyes of a killer.

"Oh! I almost forgot to ask you about your gallery opening, Bella," Rosalie commented, looking at Bella expectantly. In that moment I knew she hadn't been listening; everyone was staring at her, and she was preoccupied with eyeing me and then the half eaten food on her plate. With a sudden jolt she looked up, wide eyed.

"I'm sorry, what?" she asked, embarrassed and blushing crimson.

"I was just saying that I forgot to ask you about your show in a few weeks at the Foster White Gallery. My mother is Victoria White's personal assistant, and she told me that they'd booked you," Rosalie repeated animatedly. She was so obviously in awe of Bella that she wasn't even slightly affected by her inattentiveness.

My instincts were on alert in mere seconds when I noticed the look of dread that washed over Bella's face. She closed her eyes for a brief moment and when she opened them again her face was clear of the previous emotion.

It may have happened in an instant, but it was obvious what had just occurred. I'd just witnessed Bella's mask slipping into place.

Like me, this shy, blushing girl who had sad eyes and painted murder scenes had secrets and disguises, and for reasons unknown to me, I found myself wanting to know what they were.

Bella reluctantly invited us all to see her show in Seattle on Halloween night. Alice even suggested that we all wear costumes. Once again, I found myself resisting the urge to chuckle darkly like some kind of ghoul. If people could see the real me, they'd know that the man behind the mask was by far scarier than the costume he wore every single day. It had been years since I'd dressed up for Halloween, but I was open to the idea nonetheless. However, my thoughts were suddenly focused on seeing Bella's art and how accurate her depiction of a murder might be.

_Was it possible for her to capture the gleam in the killer's eyes just right? _

_Could she portray the excitement, the thrill?_

_Was there any way that she could possibly depict the emotions of fear, or anguish?_

_Might she possibly capture the fatalistic gleam in the eyes of those rare killers who were just waiting to be caught and had already accepted their fate? _

_Could she possible know?_

My thoughts were starting to become erratic and I was grasping at the ridiculous notion that the tiny, blushing woman in front of me might know the true face of death. Her art was most likely just a pretentious depiction of a scene she remembered from a movie or a nightmare; something meant to shock the viewer into believing it was something strange or evil.

I felt like chastising myself for carrying on the inconsequential inner monologue, when I should have been focused on destroying Tanya. I needed to make another trip back to Seattle after dinner. I only hoped that by the time I arrived, she would already be there alone after another night of whoring around. There was only so much time left before the painters would come in and finish their job in the empty apartment I'd set up for her kill room. If I let that happen, I'd have to wait even longer to introduce her to the bottom of the Pacific. _Yes, I have to take Tanya tonight_. There was no question.

After dinner, Esme offered us coffee in the den. Bella was visibly uncomfortable as she was shifting in her seat. There were very few instances where Bella spoke without first being probed by either Rosalie or Alice. Much to my disappointment, I was getting very little information from the simple yes or no answers she was providing. It was the shy smiles, the self-conscious blushing, and the nervous lip biting that let me into her thoughts, but then there would be this far away, dazed look that would appear and effectively shut me out. The conversation was getting me nowhere, so I politely excused myself to the restroom to momentarily rid myself of her distraction. I needed to focus on tonight with Tanya.

Inside the bathroom, I relieved myself while collecting my thoughts. My plans for tonight could not fail as they had the night before. I would succeed without question. The sudden chaotic feeling coursing through me made it clear that if I valued my sanity, I could not delay any further. I would thank my family for the wonderful meal, congratulate my brother for his promotion, shake hands with Carlisle and Jasper, hug Alice and Esme, and then I would ask for Bella's phone number and permission to call her for a date sometime.

It was unfortunate that things like handshakes and hugs didn't come naturally to me. I had to plan to do them because it was all part of the façade, my disguise. Carlisle had taught me well, and even at a young age I was able to successfully mask the horror that was my personality.

When I wasn't so successful at hiding, Esme had encouraged Carlisle to send me to a child psychologist to be assessed. Carlisle dared not to go against her after she had witnessed some of my strange behaviors. He knew, though, that if the psychologist cleared me, she'd likely make up her own conclusions about the way I acted. She'd make excuses to herself that I felt off because I was adopted, or just different. Carlisle knew that within a couple of years, I'd be able to hide it all together, and she'd assume that I'd just grown out of it. Carlisle basically used a few therapy sessions to buy us some time.

_**Flashback March 15, 1986** _

_"I don't want to go, D_ _ad. What if she thinks I am crazy, and tries to take me away?" I asked, seriously concerned that my objection was a possibility._

_"Edward, you aren't going to have to worry about that as long as you follow my instructions," he replied, while I nodded weakly._

_"Listen, do you remember those questions I asked you a few years ago when I found out about what you did to Rascal?" he questioned sternly. Again I nodded, unsure of his motivation._

_"Mrs. Cope is going to ask you similar questions, and I want you to answer them. The difference is, though, when you answer her questions, you think of the answer and then say the opposite of what you really think. If she asks you if you have ever killed an animal, what are you going to say?" _

_"No," I grinned, realizing that this might be easier than I expected._

_At my answer, Carlisle's eyes sparkled with some emotion unfamiliar to me. "Remember, son, your mother and I love you very much, no matter what happens." He smiled then looked at me expectantly._

_"I love you too, Dad," I said, slightly more confident than previous times I'd said it. Carlisle patted my head in obvious approval of my progress. _

_Saying 'I love you' convincingly had become more and more difficult as I'd gotten older and began to realize that, to most people, they weren't just empty words._

_A few hours later, Esme and I arrived at Mrs. Cope's office. I took a moment to assess my surroundings, only to find that the room seemed childish and annoying. Since I was supposed to act the opposite of the way my instincts told me to, I decided to play with some of the toys in the waiting room. I glanced up at Esme to see her smiling warmly, and I knew I'd guessed correctly._

_After several minutes of pretending to play while contemplating the possible questions she might ask, a door opened and a small child walked out. She was sobbing quietly and hiccupping. I frowned at the implications of her emotional state. Her reaction made me wonder if she had given the wrong answers and was going to be taken away. With that thought, I resolved myself to be perfect. No one understood me like Carlisle. I couldn't be taken away from him._

_A short, heavy woman in a dress suit and hair in a messy bun called my name as she held the door open widely. Carefully, I placed the toy I'd been holding on the ground and walked toward the same room the crying girl just left._

_"Hello, you must be Edward. I am Mrs. Cope. Please, come in." She smiled and offered her hand. I shook it without hesitation, knowing it was impolite to cringe or refuse._

_"How are you today?" she asked after guiding me to sit on a small pastel colored couch that sat across from a slightly worn armchair. After I was seated, she took the chair across from me._

_"I'm fine, thank you," I replied easily, as I attempted to appear relaxed on the couch. The first few questions were ones I obviously could answer without lying._

_"How old are you, Edward?"_

_"Nine."_

_"Do you have any brothers or sisters?"_

_"Yes, Emmett and Alice."_

_"What is your favorite color?"_

_"Blue."_

_"What TV shows do you like to watch?"_

_"Uhh, I guess me and Emmett like to watch 'Ghostbusters', and 'Pee Wee's Playhouse'. Sometimes we watch 'Jem' with Alice, even though it's stupid," I replied, wondering if she would realize that I only named shows my brother and sister liked._

_She continued on for several minutes like that asking easy questions._

_"Edward, do you get in trouble at school often?" she asked nonchalantly, and a red warning bell went off in my head. This was the kind of question Carlisle warned me about._

_I was able to answer honestly, because this year I hadn't gotten into much trouble, but last year and the year before, I had been in trouble often. I would ignore my teachers, often disregarding their instructions in favor of doing what I wanted. I had also been in trouble a few times for hitting or shoving kids who provoked me verbally. Since then, Carlisle had helped me to stop myself from acting on instinct, and I'd hardly had any incidents since. Still, I knew I needed to tell her no._

_"Not much. Sometimes I forget my homework and get a demerit." I shrugged as if I couldn't think of any other examples of bad behavior._

_"Do you get along with your teachers and other students?" she asked curiously._

_"I guess so. There is one kid at school who says mean things to me and some other kids, but I just try to stay away from him," I lied easily, as there was a partial truth to what I was saying. There was a kid like that and I did stay away from him, ever since last year, when I hit him in the eye with a rock after he refused to let me play soccer with his friends. He told them all that I was a little wimp and wasn't allowed._

_"How does it make you feel when he says mean things to you?" _

_My instinct was that it made me furious, and I wanted to hit him with another rock or snap his neck like I had Rascal's. That was definitely not something to be shared if I wanted to stay in my home with my family._

_"It makes me sad," I replied stiffly, not sure how I could elaborate convincingly._

_She eyed me suspiciously, and I worried that I'd said the wrong thing._

_"Edward, have you ever purposefully harmed an animal?"_

_There it was - the question Carlisle warned me about. It was what gave me away to Carlisle in the first place. By now, I knew that normal people didn't do what I did to Rascal. My choice was easy; I'd lie again, and I would be convincing._

_"No, I love animals. I even help Emmett and Alice feed some raccoons that come to our backyard." I smiled innocently._

_"Oh, that's nice," she responded warmly, and I knew I had done it. She'd believed every word._

_She asked me a few more questions, but after I'd beaten her with the animal question, everything just got easier and easier._

_"Okay, Edward, our time is up." She smiled again, and I returned it with a genuine smile. I was pleased with myself and confident that I wouldn't be forced to leave my home._

_An hour or so after Carlisle arrived home from work. He came to my bedroom to talk to me. My expression was wary, concerned that I had been wrong in thinking that I'd passed the test, but the smile or his face snapped me out of my panic._

_Carlisle informed me that night that Mrs. Cope told Esme that I was a very polite and well-adjusted child. She mentioned that I might be getting bullied at school, which caused him to chuckle knowingly. _

_"You did well today, son." He smiled._

I shook my head at the memory of those times when Carlisle promised he'd love me no matter what, only to turn is back on me when he saw what I'd become - what he made me. He was nothing more than a modern day Dr. Frankenstein, turning his back on his creation. For all I knew, Mrs. Cope might have been able to help me, had I answered all her questions honestly.

It was too late now, though; there was no changing the man I'd become. After I'd had a taste of the blood, my thirst was unquenchable. I could go months without it, and had, but everything always came full circle.

I opened the door to the bathroom only to be met with a pair of sad brown eyes. As much as I wanted to ask her why she looked so sad, I knew I'd have to be patient.

"Hello," I greeted her warmly.

"Hi," she replied shyly, blushing. We both stood there looking at each other until I realized that she probably needed to use the bathroom, and there I was standing there dumbly in her way. I was about to step aside when she spoke abruptly.

"Edward, I'm sorry if I am being presumptuous, but Alice has been trying for a week to get me to meet you. I am certain she must have told you as well that she wants us to date," she blurted. I was caught off guard by her boldness, but it made my job that much easier, I wouldn't have to deal with the awkwardness of asking for her number, then calling her and working up to asking for the date.

"I hope she didn't give you the wrong idea, but I am not really in the right place in my life to be dating right now," she said, frowning as she looked away from me. _Well that was unexpected, much like everything else about this strange woman_. I felt myself flounder a bit, not knowing exactly how to respond.

"Oh well, Bella, that's all right. I mean, I was planning to ask you out, but I understand if you aren't interested." I didn't really understand as I said I did. Had I misread her? There was no way. I was at the top of my game when it came to reading people. She had to have wanted me.

"God, no, I… fuck. Edward, I am attracted to you. It's just… I'm not good for you," she said, sobbing quietly. _What the hell is happening?_ This woman's mood swings were giving me whiplash. While my instincts were telling me to walk away, Carlisle's advice was making me second guess them. The best comforting gesture I could come up with was to lamely place my hand on her shoulder. I resisted saying 'there, there', knowing it would just make me sound stupid. Much to my surprise, she jerked away from my touch. Her reaction made me think that maybe my instinct to walk away had been correct after all. Before I could act contrite for my behavior, she brushed the tears away from her eyes and looked up at me regretfully. It was almost like she was silently apologizing to me.

"I have PTSD," she muttered.

There it was - the explanation for the erratic behavior. It made sense. Simply unsure of what to say, I nodded at her in understanding.

"I don't react well to being touched," she explained further.

My chest was clenching again. She had just given me my go ahead. I imagined that most men would be giving up on what they'd perceived to being a lost cause. I could practically consider Bella my soul mate, if I had a soul, that is. I couldn't have asked for a more perfect situation. My mind was already formulating how I'd proceed.

Bella and I could start off as friends, spending time together casually. We could just talk, go out to dinner, and to movies. She could accompany me to hospital events, and I could keep unwanted suitors away from her during her gallery shows. All the while, I'd find a way to convince her that I'd fallen in love with her and didn't care that she couldn't touch me, as long as we were together. Maybe it was a weak plan with too many variables. There was also the potential for Bella to end up feeling like Emily, worrying where I was getting it from, since I wasn't getting it from her.

It wasn't as if I had any other options at the moment, so I decided to go for it.

"Oh, well… umm, I understand, Bella. Maybe we could just be friends?" I asked, hoping she wouldn't turn me down.

"I'd like that," she whispered shyly. Her shy smiles were my cue to give her the same crooked grin that kept on flustering her. She blushed more, and then I noticed her face was still tearstained from her mini breakdown. Alice would have my balls if she thought I was the reason for Bella's disheveled appearance, so I encouraged Bella to calm down, hoping she'd realize the state she was in and take care of it.

When she returned from the bathroom, the only sign of the incident was the slight red rim around her deep brown eyes, though it was mostly hidden by the fresh coat of eyeliner she must have applied. I smiled warmly at her in light of our shared secret, and she returned it with an answering grin.

Only minutes after Bella left, I made my excuses and said my goodbyes. It was time.

Needing to get my tools, I swung by my apartment and then filled up my Volvo before making the long trek to Seattle. Needing to make sure there was no evidence that I'd been anywhere near the city, I avoided the ferry.

Tonight there would be no games, no false pretenses, and no allusions to fake sexual encounters. There would be blood on my slide and a knife in her chest, and for a little while I'd be satisfied.

It was nearly 2:00am by the time I got to Seattle. It was also my lucky day. Moments after I pulled into the empty space across from Tanya's building, her red Porsche Carrera sped by me too fast to turn into her parking complex. Realizing that she had overshot the distance, she put the car in reverse and more carefully pulled into the security manned complex. She parked close to the front, and from where I was sitting I could just barely see her exit the vehicle, alone. She appeared to be drunk, and that would make my job that much easier.

After parking a block away, I walked around back to the exit I'd used a few days before to get my supplies into the kill room. After picking the lock again, I stealthily made my way to the flight of stairs leading fourteen floors up to her penthouse. The trip up was a bit tiring after already running today, but nothing could keep me from the task at hand. Finally, after several minutes of running at an incline, I arrived at the top step leading to the floor with two penthouses.

Tanya was up here all alone and could even be allowed to scream a bit, and I just might let her.

It had been more than half an hour since I'd seen her drunkenly ambling through the parking garage. I figured by now it was probably safe to say she was passed out in her bed or maybe over the toilet.

I leaned my head against the door, listening for something - anything - that would give an indication that she was not alone. I heard nothing.

With my trusty lock pick kit, I got the door open easily. Upon entering, I could hear the faint sound of snoring coming from down the hall.

Her door was open, and she was laying sprawled out across a king sized bed in nothing but a black bra and a matching thong. Internally, I rejoiced that I wouldn't have struggle with peeling clothes off another limp body. Unsure of how much alcohol she'd consumed, I made a professional decision to only give her half the usual dose of M-99. She was going to die by my knife, not an overdose.

After administering the drug, her snoring quieted down to a few shallow breaths every few seconds. I made my way towards the door and across the hall to my prepared kill room. I turned on the lights, arranged the photos of her late husbands that Emmett provided, and then I laid out all my tools.

A dozen or so minutes later, Tanya was prepped and ready on my table. This had to happen fast, so I had some smelling salts handy to get her awake sooner.

Her body reacted quickly to the substance. Her eyes flew open as she assessed her surroundings.

"Wha… What is this?" she asked drowsily, obviously still under the effects of the alcohol and the tranquilizers still coursing through her system.

Ignoring her inquiry, I took a slice at her cheek with my scalpel and collected the blood for my slide as per my usual routine.

"Hey, that hurt," she whined. Normally, I would have quipped with something like 'That was just the beginning," or 'There's plenty more where that came from,' but I wasn't in the mood to talk tonight.

"You're pretty," she cooed, causing me to clear my throat reflexively.

"Are you into kinky sex games or something? Why am I tied up?" she asked suddenly, starting to appear a bit panicked.

Still not wishing to talk, I gestured toward the photos of her dead husbands. Realization dawned on her face, and she looked up at me sadly.

"Their families hired you. Are you going to kill me?" she asked softly. I didn't really feel like trying to explain my reasons, so I simply nodded.

"Please don't," she pleaded, her voice became a bit more raised.

With my knife out of the satchel, I positioned myself above her, ready to strike at any moment.

"I'll fuck you if you let me go," she cried out sharply. I shook my head and readied myself again. Tanya began to whimper. It was time.

I raised the blade above her, and just as I plunged the knife in she shifted slightly causing the knife to sink into her and missing her heart. Much to my shock, I hadn't wrapped her tightly enough. Without a gag in her mouth, the blood that quickly filled her lungs started to pour out of her mouth. She was still alive and was choking on the blood.

"Fuck," I shouted, sounding a bit strangled even to my own ears. Another gurgling cough snapped me back to reality. I quickly lined up my knife with her body again, and this time I didn't miss. I reminded myself not to freak out. This very situation was the reason why I had the plastic. I'd been through this before. I'd missed the heart five other times though; they had all happened within the first three years, and it had been several years since.

It was futile to worry about it so I went about my cleanup, which was significantly more time consuming than usual because of the splattered blood.

I quickly dismembered and wrapped up the body, and then changed out of my slightly bloodied clothes. Needing to wear something other than what I'd worn the night before, I put on a crisp white dress shirt and a pair of grey slacks.

After packing everything up in a couple of large duffel bags, I stealthily rushed out to the Volvo and made my way to the marina.

It was still dark around 5:00 am when I made port back at the dock from dumping Tanya. It was time to make the long trek home back to Forks. Yawning, I stretched and then got in the car and left.

It was nearly 8:15 am when I reached the outskirts of Forks. I was dead tired and starving. I didn't know if I'd have the energy to cook and I didn't much feel like going to sleep on an empty stomach, so I decided to stop off at the diner on my way home.

Much to my surprise and satisfaction, I noticed the familiar black Audi with the dented side in the parking lot of the little restaurant.

I spotted her easily in a corner booth sipping at coffee and spearing a large bite of syrupy pancakes with her fork. Sheila the server, offered to seat me at a table but I declined in hopes of joining Bella. She lifted a newspaper and was looking it over as I quietly approached her.

Almost as if she'd somehow sensed me, suddenly her eyes met mine.

"Good morning," I spoke smoothly, hoping that the intensity of last night's conversation would be gone and allow us to converse more comfortably.

She grinned at me as if she were excited by my mere presence. "Morning… would you like to join me?"

I fought back the cocky smirk that threatened to take over my face at her offer. It meant I would have to invite myself.

"Absolutely," I agreed easily. I took a seat on the bench across from her and produced my own newspaper so that neither of us would feel the need to fill the silence with mindless chit-chat. Keeping with my usual routine, I ordered my favorite breakfast and glanced over the current events portion of the paper. I couldn't help but notice that it was the same section Bella was reading. I began to wonder why I even noticed such an inconsequential detail. Internally, I shrugged at myself and decided to ignore it.

After I'd finished eating, I noticed Bella had as well. I knew it wasn't a date, but I figured I could get away with buying her breakfast. I saw Sheila was about to pass by, so I turned to motion for the check.

"Edward, I think you have some blood on your neck," Bella stated, her tiny voice laced with concern.

"What?" I asked incredulously. Surely I wasn't _that_ stupid. What could I say to her to possibly explain myself?

"I said, it looks like there's some blood on your neck," she repeated, as I reached toward my neck to touch the dried smudge.

"Shit," I muttered, under my breath. Suddenly, a light bulb went off in my head.

"I had to go in to the office early this morning to run some tests, and I was a bit careless with one of the samples and dropped it. It must have splattered on me without me noticing," I smiled sheepishly, feigning embarrassment in an effort to be convincing.

Bella reached into her purse and produced a small packet of moist towelettes and a mirror. Not wanting to cause her any discomfort, I waited for her to place them on the table before reaching for them. She looked up at me gratefully.

"I keep them in case I find stray paint splatters," she shrugged, smiling and blushing.

I cleaned the remains of the bitch's blood off my neck and the small amount that got on my shirt, knowing I'd have to burn it and the towelettes in my fireplace when I got home. Realization struck, and I realized that I'd probably need to clean the Volvo and boat in case and flecks of dried blood came off my neck. It took everything in me not to break the table.

"Edward, are you okay?" she asked, concerned.

"Yes, I… I need to go, Bella," I said through clenched teeth. "I'll get breakfast."

I stood up before she had a chance to argue and found Sheila already printing our ticket.

"Here, Sheila, I'll take care of both of those." I shoved my credit card into her hand and then began to anxiously run my fingers through my hair.

"Hey, I could have gotten mine," Bella objected from behind me. I closed my eyes, hoping that she'd drop it.

"How about you get mine next time," I offered, hoping that would be sufficient.

"Oh… okay. You want to have breakfast with me again?" she said skeptically. A hint of disbelief colored her tone, and I couldn't help but look at her. She looked anxious and her brows were furrowed. A sudden urge to smooth the crease made me clench my fists at my side in confusion.

"Yes, I do, but I have to go now. I'm sorry to rush off so fast. I just forgot something," I lied, more calmly than before.

"Oh, okay." She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. After Sheila handed me the check, I left her a sizable tip and then held the door open for Bella. As we were both heading out of the diner, a shiny blue BMW came to a screeching halt.

"I'm gonna get you, you fucking bitch," a deep voice shouted from the cover of the car. I ran to Bella's side and glared menacingly in the direction of the car. Upon my approach, the car drove off. I couldn't help but notice the dent in the back.

"Bella, who the fuck was that?" I growled, barely containing the rage I suddenly felt.

* * *

What do you guys think Edward is going to do to Mike?

Your reviews have been really great, even better than Edward stabbing Tanya in the tit!

Also for a break from the Darkness and Gore checkout Confessions of a Love Sick Geek!


	7. The Stalker

**Edward Cullen: Confessions of a Serial Killer**

**~SoapyMayhem**

Thanks to my beta Twimarti for her superb help in getting this fic ready!

Disclaimer: Twilight, Dexter, and Night of the Hunter, are all publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning **This story is going to be very violent, and in a later chapter will have a non-sensational depiction of rape. Rated M for a reason. ***This chapter contains a brief description of sexual abuse, in the second italicized group of paragraphs. Please skip that short excerpt if you feel be disturbed or offended.****

* * *

**Chapter 6 **The Stalker****

***~Bella Swan~***

**_Cat People by David Bowie_**

_See these eyes so green__  
I can stare for a thousand years  
Colder than the moon  
It's been so long  
And I've been putting out fire  
With gasoline_

_Feel my blood enraged  
It's just the fear of losing you  
Don't you know my name  
Well, you've been so long_

_See these eyes so red  
Red like jungle burning bright  
Those who feel me near  
Pull the blinds and change their minds  
It's been so long_

****October 16, 2009****

_"Edward, I think you have some blood on your neck." _

The shift in the atmosphere was palpable. He froze, and panic etched itself across his angular features for a split second.

"What?" he barked incredulously, making me flinch.

"I said, it looks like there's some blood on your neck," I repeated cautiously.

He mumbled something that vaguely sounded like "shit," making me curious as to what his explanation would be.

Suddenly, his face changed again into one of embarrassment. _What's going on in that head of his?_

"I had to go into the office early this morning to run some tests, and I was a bit careless with one of the samples and dropped it. It must have splattered on me without me noticing," he smiled a half smile, still looking embarrassed. His reaction made him seem like a neat freak or a germaphobe, though considering the fact that he is a doctor, it wouldn't seem all that surprising for him to have an issue with germs and such. Assuming that he was trying to hide his disgust by pretending to be embarrassed, I decided to help put him out of his misery. For several seconds, I fumbled through my purse looking for a packet of wet-naps and my compact mirror. Once I produced them and explained why I had them, he looked grateful.

After cleaning his neck off, he wrapped the wet-nap in a napkin and put it in his pocket. I found this really odd but didn't mention it, not wanting to be nosey.

Within seconds, the panicked look was back, but this time he seemed a bit angry, too. I watched as he gripped the table, as if restraining himself. Thankfully, he wasn't looking at me, or else I would have assumed that this panic attack, or whatever was happening to him, was caused by me. His grip loosened on the table before he slid the compact back to me, careful not to touch my hand, for which I was grateful.

"Edward, are you okay?" I asked, sincerely worried for his state of mind. His mood swings were giving me whiplash, and the need to comfort him physically was strong. _Not gonna happen, idiot_. Instead, I did the best I could, offering my words of concern in place of the hug I so badly wanted to give him.

"Yes, I… I need to go, Bella… I'll get breakfast," he seethed then walked off, effectively dismissing me and my concern for him.

Before I could protest, he was already at the counter handing Sheila his credit card while tugging anxiously at the bronze mop of his 'freshly fucked' looking hair; _that_ _I wished I had caused_.

Edward and I weren't dating, and paying for a meal was date behavior. As much as I wanted it to be so, I couldn't let him treat me as if that were the case, especially since I asked him to join me and not the other way around.

"Hey, I could have gotten mine," I protested weakly.

"How about you get mine next time," he offered while still facing away from me.

Before I could mentally high-five myself for the implications of his offer, I opened my mouth to voice my disbelief.

"Oh… okay. You want to have breakfast with me again?" I questioned dumbly, hoping he wasn't just trying to placate me with false promises. Finally he turned to look at me, and for the most part his panic appeared to have been replaced with a slight air of confusion. I imagined for a moment that his reaction was simply an attempt to restrain himself from making a sarcastic comment because of my stupidity, but I just couldn't believe that about Edward. He might not have been the warmest person, but he didn't seem the type to be spiteful or mean.

"Yes, I do, but I have to go now. I'm sorry to rush off so fast. I just forgot something," he explained, but it kind of seemed like a lie. I didn't want him to know that I felt that way, so I simply smiled and nodded my understanding. Wordlessly, I followed Edward out of the diner, flinching as the bell on the door jingled in my ear, startling me. Looking around the parking lot, I noticed the same shiny silver Volvo that I had seen the evening before when I left the Cullen's home, so I could only assume that it belonged to Edward.

Only seconds after being startled by the bell, a loud screech from the highway echoed off the trees, making me tense and alarmed again.

Before I even had to look for the source of the sound, I heard him. _Newton - that asshole_.

"I'm gonna get you, you fucking bitch!" he yelled from the safety of his car. I had no opportunity to react, because in seconds Edward had placed himself in front of me, effectively blocking me from Newton's line of sight. I couldn't see their faces, but I could only imagine the looks they were giving each other. Michael, being the coward and total douche that he was, drove off after Edward's display.

To say I was shocked was an understatement. I couldn't believe that this guy I barely knew was trying to defend me like some kind of white knight. Though, if my life were a fairytale, the beautiful white knight would have been horrified to realize that he wasn't protecting the princess but the fucking wicked witch.

"Bella, who the fuck was that?" he practically growled, breaking me from my thoughts of knights and witches. _Shit, how was going to explain? _

For the most part, I had been honest with Edward about my problem and it hadn't scared him away - yet. However, I realized that I never explained the effect of my problem; when I was rational and someone touched me, I might simply begin to panic, but when I was in less… control, my body acted on it's on volition. Nine times out of ten, it was a violent reaction.

I knew I could simply lie and say that he was angry about the accident, but I wasn't sure that Edward would be satisfied with that explanation. Fury was rolling off him in waves, and he didn't seem entirely stable at the moment. He must have gotten impatient with waiting for my answer because the next thing he said was my name in a warning tone.

"Erm… that's umm… his name is Michael Newton and well… he hit my car the other day, and when he wouldn't let me call the police to report it, we umm…" I trailed off, knowing I would need to choose my words carefully.

"What?" he snapped, and my eyes widened. His anger faltered at my shocked expression, and his eyes softened a bit.

"Mmm… I apologize, Bella. I just didn't like the way he threatened you, and I need to know how serious those threats were," he spoke carefully, as though he was having a great deal of difficulty choosing his words as well.

"Umm, well, after he uh… wouldn't let me call the police, we got into an altercation, and I umm… I may have reacted a bit… fiercely to him grabbing my arm. You know, the PTSD." I muttered the PTSD part shamefully. Mostly due to the fact that I had to admit what I'd done, though I still didn't regret it. If it were up to me, Michael Newton would get a swift kick in the bollocks every day for the rest of his life.

He arched a brow at me, obviously waiting for me to clarify further. "I scratched his face, and then kicked him in the balls." I choose to leave a lot of it, wondering if it might just make matters worse.

I had hoped that my explanation would ease his concern over me, but he only seemed to tense further. Looking into his eyes, I attempted to figure out what he was thinking. It was as if, internally, two opposing forces were warring for dominance. It was my assumption that one of those forces had won, because he had a sudden look of determination as he gave me a deliberate nod of understanding.

"Bella, it may not help much, but I want you to take my number, just in case this asshole Newton bothers you again. You don't have to give me yours, but I would feel better knowing you could get a hold of me," he offered kindly, but a bit of the anger was still in his voice. Deciding that I liked the idea of having his number, I relinquished my cell phone to him to program it in. Maybe I was being presumptuous, but within seconds of him handing my phone back, I called him.

"You have my number now, too," I shrugged sheepishly.

"Good, well, now I really have to go. I'm sorry."

"Okay, bye," I replied lamely, as he turned on his heels and stalked to the driver's side of the little silver car.

It was the last time I saw or heard anything from either him or Michael Newton for nearly a week.

****October 22, 2009****

"Bella?"

"Bel-la… hey, are you even listening to me?" Alice asked as she snapped her fingers in front of my face.

"Erm… sorry, I was just thinking," I explained dumbly.

"I just wanted to know if you still wanted to go to the diner after the meeting, and it's all right, I get trapped in here too sometimes," she replied while tapping her head.

"Look I'm kind of tired, but I want to… I do, because I really enjoy, no… need that, but tonight I'm just not up for it. Honestly, I can't believe I even made it to the meeting." Regrettably, I muttered the last as an afterthought, but Alice's interest was drawn.

"Hey, are you okay?" asked Alice, her voice laced with the utmost concern for me. It warmed my black heart. I found myself wanting to open up and share what happened, but I knew that was a ridiculous notion. Maybe I could tell her some of it, but there were parts that I'd take to my grave. Of course, my fucking therapist knew, and nearly every time I lifted my brush, I painted the entire scene on the canvas, and for what - the whole fucking world to see? At every gallery opening, every interview, I fought the urge to scoff every time some pretentious douche wanted me to comment on the irony of my work. They wanted to know what it all meant. _Well, you can't un-hear things._

"No, Alice, I'm not, but don't worry. I don't plan on rushing out of city limits to grab any booze. I think I need to go home and be alone, and just sort through _this_," I replied while tapping on my head the same way she had moments ago. She nodded in understanding but I could tell she was disappointed, and I felt like an asshole. It was all because of the conversation I'd had with Jasper, then another that I'd had with Esme only a few days earlier.

_**October 19, 2009**_

_The smell of turpentine was stinging my nose as I cleaned the paint from my stained hands. I yelped as the water suddenly became too hot, scalding me. _

_"Old ass, goddamn, fucking pipes," I cursed as I dried my reddened hands on a clean towel. Just as I was about to go kick the fucking hot water heater for being a piece of shit, my cell rang. _

_I couldn't help but be hopeful that it could be Edward calling. I'd returned to the diner every morning,_ _hoping - fruitlessly - that he'd be there. I was too afraid to call him, since it sounded as if he only wanted me to have his number in case of an emergency. _

_How stupid could I be to think a man like that would want someone like me? Firstly, I was broken, beyond repair. Secondly, I was also his little sister's new BFF. I always rolled my eyes at that term. I imagined that he would feel a bit protective over his sister's friend, since I was slightly more than an acquaintance, and he'd been witness to that dipshit Newton's threats, but for him to want me the way I wanted him was absurd. _

_Even through all the brooding and self-loathing I was torturing myself with, I still held out hope that it was Edward calling and that he wanted us to spend time together again. This thought had me wishing that I'd given him an opportunity to ask me out and then said yes, but I couldn't have led him on knowing he would be left unsatisfied. That wouldn't stop me from being his friend,_ _though._

_With the bit of the renewed confidence I'd mustered,_ _I reached for the phone, only to find 'Esme Cullen' listed on the display. "Fuck," I grumbled before answering the call._

_"Hello, Esme, how are you?" I asked as sweetly as I could manage, trying to mask my disappointment._

_"Hello,_ _dear, I just wanted to call you and speak to you about something. That is,_ _if you have a moment," she requested hesitantly. Based on her cautious tone, I had a feeling that our conversation was going to be less than pleasant. I could only imagine what she wanted to say to me. Maybe something like "I don't want a freak like you hanging around with my son and daughter," or,_ _"Stay away from my family, you nutcase". All manner of politeness left my voice as I carefully put up my mask of indifference. It was a poor defense mechanism, but it was all I had._

_"What is it you wanted to say to me, Esme?" I replied coolly._

_She didn't seem taken aback my abrupt change in tone, and simply replied, "It's Alice."_

_"Oh, is everything okay?" I asked,_ _panicking as my façade slipped easily in concern of my friend._

_"Oh… sweetie, I'm sorry -_ _Alice is fine. I didn't mean to… well, I'll just tell you. Alice, as you know,_ _is in recovery. It isn't my place to tell her story, but what I will say is that, in the last five years, my Alice has been a shell of the girl she once was. Jasper, he helped her so much - brought her back home so she could recover and be with her family. That wonderful,_ _selfless man travels hours nearly every day so he can be with her,_ _and do his job as well. The thing is, most of the time she is like a different person from who she was. She has had some happy times, but it wasn't the same. What I'm trying to say is that, Bella, I don't know what you've done, but you gave me my little girl back," she sobbed. _

_I felt bad for Alice and wondered what happened to her, but mostly I wondered the same thing as Esme had; what was so special about me that made the old Alice return? _

_"Jasper had the same conversation with me at the painting party. Honestly, I don't know what it is about me that helped Alice either, nor if I even had anything to do with it at all. I just know that I really care about Alice, and your family… the way you've all welcomed me here, well, I can't tell you how much I appreciate it," I replied, slightly embarrassed but thankful that Esme couldn't see my cheeks glowing in embarrassment._

_We chatted a bit longer about inconsequential things, but I couldn't help but think about Alice. I didn't ever want to let her down by failing her as a friend, because by default I'd be failing her family as well. It was a lot of fucking pressure._

****October 22, 2009****

I hated to say no to Alice or leave her disappointed, but tonight I just wanted to be alone. I needed to paint.

"I have your number-" _and Edward's_, "-and I promise to call if anything happens, or if I feel like I need someone to talk to," I whined playfully, but it felt like begging. Truthfully, I was begging. I needed Alice to let it go and not be hurt by my urgent, but temporary, need to be alone.

"Okay," she relented and then smiled a bit more believably.

"Promise me you'll call," she added sternly.

"Scout's honor," I teased, holding up my right hand, jestingly making the pledge.

"Bella, I know you were never a fucking boy scout, but I'll accept that promise anyway," she smirked playfully, and I knew that she'd be okay.

After the meeting, I made my way home. I felt chill creep up my spine as the feeling I was being followed washed over me, and it wasn't the first time I'd felt that way recently. Throughout this entire week, I'd had the oddest sense that someone was watching me. Frighteningly, I even felt that way after traveling the hour-long distance into Port Angeles to pick up paint supplies and stop into a local book store.

As I turned the corner to my driveway the car behind me turned around farther up the road. It was hard to see, but I could tell it was small and light in color. A vision of a shiny blue BMW flashed in my mind, and in reaction I grasped the phone in my pocket - my direct line to Edward.

I almost called him, until I realized that I didn't really have anything to report. What could I have said? "Oh Edward… a car turned around on my road. Please come quick and while you're here, please join me in my bedroom so we can masturbate in front of each other since I am so pathetic we can't even touch." Yes, I sure that would turn out well.

Even with Michael Newton on the fucking loose, wanting to 'get me'- whatever he meant by that – I still had a feeling that my PTSD might be manifesting itself in a new way – as some form of paranoia. It would be just my luck to be correct about the paranoia, and then I'd be even more of a freak than I already was.

I spent the evening in my studio surrounded by oils, brushes, and canvas, only to find myself painting Edward's lovely face for the third time this week.

The night after I left the Cullen's, I ended up sketching his face from a dozen different angles, and as creepy as it was, it made me feel less like the freak I'd been accusing myself of being. It was nice to have a reprieve from my dark renderings. I knew eventually I'd be back to that point - painting killer and victim - but for now, I'd enjoy painting the angelic face that gave me something a lot prettier to dream about.

Around 1:00 am I became drowsy, and Jake had been whining by the door to go out for at least ten minutes. It felt bad to ignore him, so I put on his leash and we walked around till he did his business.

Like a zombie, I trudged lazily up the stairs, groaning with every step. Quickly, I stripped out my clothes, threw on an old t-shirt, and slipped into bed.

_The smell was vile. If it weren't for the fact that his calloused hand smelled of motor oil, the smell of rotten fish in the alley behind the seafood market would have caused me to vomit up the contents of my stomach. The cold steel stung my skin even through my thin,_ _silk blouse. I whimpered,_ _and he didn't like that - not one bit._

_"Make a sound and you die, slut," he rasped angrily,_ _causing my skin to crawl and my body to tremble in fear. With his free hand he roughly grabbed my breast,_ _which caused my eyes to clench shut around the tears pouring from them. I ended up biting my tongue to keep from making a sound. It seemed to help._

_"These fucking tits are pathetic," he growled. I couldn't help but feel hopeful that his displeasure with my body would make him want to release me._

_"You're just a fucking slut, like all the rest of them," he accused while tearing at my skirt,_ _pulling it up coarsely around my waist. At this action, my fear increased tenfold because I thought I knew what was going to happen. I was wrong._

_Suddenly,_ _the cold steel of the gun slid across my back to my side and then into my panties... _

There was something hot and wet on my face as I startled awake, only to find Jake licking me. I was thankful for his timing; had the dream progressed further, it was likely that I'd have found myself painting my killer and some poor victim for the rest of the night.

Suddenly, I had the same sensation of being watched. Momentarily afraid, I looked around my room. My fear didn't last long, knowing that Jake would not have been so calm if a stranger were in the house. I still felt uneasy, so I decided to get up and grab a bottle of water. Carefully, I padded through the dark room, wishing I'd turned the lamp on. As clumsy as I was, I made it to the stairs and then to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. On my way back up, I glanced out the window, only to see the flash of a dark figure quickly passing by. I stifled the scream that threatened to escape my lips, and ran up the stairs as fast as my legs would carry me.

On my nightstand, I saw my cell phone sitting there, just daring me to call Edward. This time, I didn't feel so hesitant.

I grabbed the phone and ran to the window, but made sure I wasn't able to be seen as I looked for my stalker. I had a feeling that fucking douche Newton was trying to plan some kind of attack, but must have noticed the 'Protected by Brinks' security system sign and chickened out. I still felt like I should tell Edward.

I located his number in my contacts and as I was about to call, I caught sight of a figure in black moving slightly in the tree line. Once I'd spotted him, I couldn't look away for fear that I'd miss him running toward the house. With trembling fingers, I pressed the 'Send' key on my phone and waited for Edward to pick up. In one ring, he answered.

"Bella… Bella? What's wrong? Are you okay?" he whispered in a panicked filled voice.

I couldn't answer him because of what I saw in my backyard - the figure in black's face was illuminated.

"Bella, what's going on," his voice rose slightly, as the figure moved from the trees closer to the house. Finally, I found my voice.

"Edward… are you… umm… in my backyard?" I asked skeptically.

Silence.

"Edward?"

"Yes," he answered coldly, and I let out a breath of relief.

"Why?" I asked quietly, but before I even finished saying the word, the call was lost and the dark figure - Edward - stalked out of my yard, shaking his head.

_What the fuck is going on?_

Hoping that he hadn't intended to hang up on me, I called him back and the call went straight to his voicemail. I decided to leave him a message.

_Edward, I want to talk to you. Please answer my call. I'm not mad, if that's what you're worried about. I'm sure you have a good reason for being in my yard and even if you don't, I still want to talk. So… um please, if you can, call me back anytime, or meet me at the diner in the morning at eight. Just don't… don't shut me out. I enjoy your company, and I still want to be friends, if that's okay._

My finger hesitated over the 'End' button, wanting to say more. I had to hang up because I didn't want to be one of those people who filled up people's voicemail boxes with mindless rambling. After he had obviously decided to leave without stopping inside, I assumed he'd hung up on me on purpose. _What hell was he thinking?_

The man was an enigma, and I couldn't help but realize that there was definitely something strange about Edward Cullen. He was more than just a pretty face; he helped people with his research, was intelligent and understanding, protective of a girl he hardly knew, and apparently some kind of stalker. I had to admit, though, that if I had to choose anyone to stalk me, it would be him. My mind began to wander into forbidden territory as my fingers found the apex of my thighs dripping with want.

In my fantasy I was the old Bella, not the pathetic, mentally unstable, addict I was now. I wanted to be the confident, well-dressed artist who had men and women falling at her feet.

_"Edward, are you in my back yard?" I cooed seductively._

_"Yes," he rasped, his voice full of need._

_"Why?"_

_"I had to see you. I need you. Can I come in, please?" he groaned._

_"The door is unlocked. I was waiting for you," I purred._

_In what felt like seconds, he was opening the door to my bedroom and taking me in his arms to the bed. Hovering over me, his warm, slender fingers made their way to my panties until they'd slipped inside._

_"Oh… god… Bella, so wet… and warm," he groaned._

_He teased my entrance for a moment before slipping a long finger inside, then after a few minutes of pumping through my whimpers and cries, he slipped in another finger, and began rubbing my swollen clit with his thumb. It didn't take long before I was crying and panting his name._

"Edward," I cried out as I removed my hand from my sated body, thankful that at least in my fantasies, he could touch me.

My sleep was fitful, knowing that I'd probably scared Edward off, but I still woke in time to be at the diner when I said I'd be.

I was afraid to get my hopes up too much by getting excited at the prospect of Edward being there, and it was a good thing that I hadn't, because he wasn't there.

Sheila gestured toward the same booth Edward and I had shared one week earlier. I nodded my approval and took a seat. After waiting more than thirty minutes for him to arrive, I ordered. I decided that, since Edward wasn't going to be here, I didn't have to be self-conscious about my poor dietary decisions. He hadn't seemed to notice or even care what I was eating last time, but I didn't really know him enough to know how serious he was about healthy food. After several minutes, Sheila added my breakfast to the coffee, O.J., syrup, and jam she'd delivered earlier.

The food was delicious as always, and though I knew I could afford better, this place just felt very homey.

After finishing a whole pot of coffee and a crossword, I motioned for Sheila to bring my check. I promptly paid, all the while wishing that I'd had the opportunity to pay for Edward's, too.

Absentmindedly, I walked toward my car as a rare ray of sunlight beamed into my eyes, blinding me temporarily. I stumbled toward my car but didn't fall, however my clumsy gene wouldn't let it go and I ended up dropping my keys. As I bent to pick them up, I heard a screeching sound. Reflexively, I turned toward the sound, only to see a flash of shiny blue coming right at me. My body froze and a scream lodged in my throat.

_I'm so fucking dead._

* * *

Confessions of a Serial Killer has been nominated for a Shimmer Award for Best Blood (Horror) Thanks to whoever nominated! Please vote when the time arrives!

So who thought, it was Michael in the backyard?

Please let me know what you think, EPOV is next and will be updated within a week or two.

Thanks!


	8. Obsession

**Edward Cullen: Confessions of a Serial Killer ****~SoapyMayhem**

Thanks to my beta Twimarti for her superb help in getting this fic ready!

Disclaimer: Twilight, Dexter, and all publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning **This story contains violence language, and non-sensational depictions of rape and sexual abuse. Rated M for a reason. ***This chapter contains a brief description of sexual abuse.***

* * *

**Chapter 7 ** Obsession ****

****Edward Cullen****

_I've never been great at conflict resolution - not without a blade and several rolls of plastic wrap._

****October 16, 2009****

_"Bella, who the fuck was that?" I growled, barely containing the rage I suddenly felt._

She looked panicked, not over the fact that some jack-ass with a death wish was threatening her, but because she was obviously trying to decide whether or not to lie to me.

"Bella," I growled her name in warning. She would not lie to me, not about something serious like a threat on her life.

Sensing my impatience, she stuttered her explanation."Erm… that's umm… his name is Michael Newton, and well… he hit my car the other day, and when he wouldn't let me call the police to report it, we umm…" she trailed off, obviously feeling apprehensive about her meeting with this guy.

This was ridiculous. Why couldn't she explain what happened?

"What?" I spat irritably. She looked contrite and a bit anxious, and I knew I was making her feel worse. For fucks-sake, the girl had PTSD, and there I was snapping at her as if she'd done something wrong. This behavior was unusual for me. With Emmett, I'd simply shake my head in annoyance, and then Alice and Esme, I'd give them whatever they wanted, just to placate them. Carlisle demanded I be patient, calm, and cunning. Because of him, I learned not to lose my cool. Bella was undoing all those years of training in mere moments simply by withholding information from me.

I would not let her make me lose control, even if I did feel the urge to gut this guy Newton for even looking at her the way he did, not to mention the fact that he'd threatened her.

"Mmm… I apologize, Bella. I just didn't like the way he threatened you, and I need to know how serious those threats were," I assured her soothingly and left out the part about wanting to gut the bastard.

"Umm, well, after he uh… wouldn't let me call the police, we got into an altercation, and I umm… I may have reacted a bit… fiercely to him grabbing my arm. You know the PTSD," she muttered, sounding ashamed. I wasn't sure if she was ashamed of her problem, or of whatever she had apparently done to this guy. My brow arched expectantly, because she wasn't going to get away with vague answers.

"I scratched his face and then kicked him in the balls," she admitted apprehensively. It was plain on her face – she was afraid of my reaction.

At her words, my face became a mask of understanding, and I didn't open my mouth to speak. I simply nodded, because if I had tried to say anything, I would have laughed - genuinely laughed. This woman was making me feel… human, and the feeling was just too odd. I needed to leave.

It was obvious I wasn't going to get anything more out of her, so I did the best I could at the time.

"Bella, it may not help much, but I want you to take my number, just in case this asshole Newton bothers you again. You don't have to give me yours, but I would feel better knowing you could get a hold of me," I offered, because I needed to know she could reach me when I couldn't be there.

Rather than tell me her number, she handed me her phone to program mine in. The moment I gave it back to her, she called me.

You have my number now, too," she shrugged, looking embarrassed. I was thankful that I'd be able to reach her and vice-versa, but I needed to leave. It had suddenly become necessary for me to speak with Emmett.

"Good… well, now I really have to go. I'm sorry," I acknowledge dismissively before heading to my car.

"Okay, bye," she muttered as I was walking away. I knew I was being rude, but my anger was flaring, so I needed to get away before I lost it in front of her.

I had never been this on edge in mere hours after a kill, at least not since the night Carlisle turned his back on me.

This woman was complicating things, not to mention my biggest concern was why I felt such a strong need to protect her.

Sure, I sometimes had the urge to kill people who didn't meet the requirements of The Code, but I never seriously considered it. No, that was much too risky. But Michael Newton – well, let's just say he had just landed himself right at the top of my shit list. My focus was trained on him, so now I just needed to know if I had the go ahead to take him out. I had to call Emmett.

Driving off, I glanced in the rearview mirror to see Bella sulking to her car. That was when I decided to put all thoughts of her out of my mind, for now. The woman was way too distracting.

I grabbed my phone and dialed up Emmett. He answered on the first ring.

_"Are you seeing this shit-"_

"Hey, I need to talk-"

We both started talking simultaneously. He groaned impatiently, obviously wanting to speak first.

"What is it, Emmett?" I acquiesced, exasperated by his impatience.

_"I take it you haven't been watching the news, or else you wouldn't be asking me,"_ he replied annoyingly.

"Stop being vague, what are you talking about?"

_"All right, well some dock workers found three bodies this morning near the marina. They were all fucked up too, bro,"_ he advised excitedly.

I hadn't noticed any commotion when I left the marina this morning, so I assumed it either happened after I'd left or was near the commercial ship yard at the other side of where I docked my boat.

_"So get this; when we got to the docks, there were these three chicks tied together, all drained of blood and they had these huge gashes on their faces. It was fucking gross, bro. Well… you probably would have liked it, ya' sick bastard,"_ he chuckled.

"Shut the fuck up, Emmett," I warned irritably.

_"Anyway, so we've been working all morning trying to identify the women, and also whether or not the killer gave'em those big fucked up smiles before or after they bit the dust,"_ he continued.

"What do you mean, big smiles?" I questioned curiously.

"_Dude, I told you this; the killer cut their faces. The cuts went from each ear to the corner of their mouths. Like the fucking Joker, or the guy in that Japanese movie 'Ichi the Killer'. So, anyways, it sounds like you've got some competition, bro,"_ he snickered, inciting me.

"Whatever. If I have to, I'll let your boys handle this one. I'm sure you wouldn't mind the opportunity to catch a serial killer in your first year as a detective," I offered grimly, knowing that I would want nothing more than to get a monster like that wrapped up nice and cozy and ready for my knife.

_"Ehh, I could always turn you in, bro,"_ he joked.

"Very fucking funny, Emmett, and I'll just let them know you hand-picked most of my victims," I reminded cleverly.

_"Touche, fucker," _he laughed. _"So, what did you need anyway?"_

Honestly, in the excitement of his news, I had almost forgotten about Newton.

"Oh… I need you to run a background check on a Michael Newton. All I know about him is that he probably lives in or near Forks, and he drives a light blue BMW convertible," I explained.

_"You mean Mikey-fucking-Newton?"_ Emmett asked incredulous.

"I don't know, maybe. Why?" I asked, concerned by Emmett's tone.

_"Is that bleach blonde piece of shit bothering one of your nurses or something?"_

"Sounds like him, and no, he was threatening Bella outside the diner this morning. I wanted to know if I could… _take care of it_," I clarified suggestively.

_"Well, I don't need to run a fucking background check on Newton to tell you he isn't gonna meet the requirements. He's a fucking douche, an epic one, but he's no killer,"_ he explained. _"Though, when you hear about some of the shit he has done, you might want to make an exception."_

"Elaborate," I demanded through clenched teeth.

_"Hey, you saw Bella this morning? I thought you were fucking up Tanya,"_ he asked suspiciously.

"I took care of Tanya, and after I stopped at the diner for breakfast. Bella was there, we talked, and I walked her to her car. _Mikey_ drove by, and then stopped to threaten her. He drove off when he saw me, so I made her explain what was going on. She said that he had backed into her car the other day and then wouldn't let her report the accident. It turned into an argument, and Bella kicked him in the balls. Now he's pissed, and I guess he wants revenge," I spouted angrily.

_"Whoa, calm the fuck down, Eddie. What the hell,"_ he scolded.

"Stop calling me Eddie, Emmett, and tell me about Newton," I spat. He was right though, I was seriously losing my shit today. I probably just needed to get some sleep, and if it wasn't too much to ask, Newton's head on a fucking stick.

_"Jeeze Edward… um anyway, Newton is Alice's age, and just came into a huge fucking trust fund. His family owns that chain of sporting goods stores, Newton's Outfitters. He was convicted of rape when he was like 15 or16 but was too young to do any real time. Two more times after that, charges were pressed for rape and sexual abuse, but each time they were dropped. Everyone thinks the victims' families must have been paid off. What's worse is that most rape victims never report the incident, so can you imagine how many more times the asshole has probably done it?" _

Emmett was right, Michael Newton didn't fit The Code, but if there was any substance to his threats, I would make sure he became my first exception.

"And you know this how?" I asked confused.

"_Bro, we have a mother and a sister to watch out for. I made a point to check out any local cases with sex offenders or any other fuckers like that with Chief Swan before he… you know_," he trailed off sadly.

I knew he and Bella's father were friends, but I hadn't realized how much his death had affected Emmett until he cried at the funeral. To be honest, I had almost forgotten about the funeral. I realized that, rudely, we'd all left without offering the chief's long-lost daughter our condolences. I wondered if things might have been different had I met Bella sooner. The unbidden thought irritated me so I pushed it back to focus on getting more info on Newton – my potential target.

"You could have told me you were keeping up with those cases. I could have helped," I offered.

"_You got your bad guys, and I got mine_," he explained. I knew that, as a cop, he would do his best to keep our family safe, but after this run-in with Newton, I was starting to wonder whether or not I should be including those types in The Code.

The thought of someone like _Mikey _fucking_ Newton _having his way with Bella was the vilest most repulsive thought that had ever flickered through my brain. Again, I was incensed.

"What are you actually doing about these guys Emmett? Are you watching them at night, following them on dates and shit? Are you standing by waiting to catch them raping someone else?" I asked accusingly. He could say he was keeping tabs on these guys, but in truth he was most often either in Seattle or in Rosalie. He didn't know what it was like to truly stalk and hunt his prey.

"_Hey, I don't come to where you work and slap the dick out of your mouth!" _he grumbled petulantly. I could just imagine him sticking his tongue out at the phone.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"_It means, don't tell me how to do my job_."

"Whatever, Emmett, thanks for the information. Good luck with your case. The three girls, I mean. Keep me posted," I sighed exasperated.

"_As always, E. Listen, try to relax, and don't fucking kill Newton, all right? Also, if you see Bella, let her know that I'm proud she stuck up for herself against that douche_."

After I got off the phone with Emmett, I made my way home drowsily. At that point, I was solely running on the 'protect Bella' induced adrenaline rush and the coffee I'd had at the diner.

After catching up on my sleep, I knew I'd have to set to work cleaning the Volvo for any traces of Tanya's blood, and at some point I'd have to clean the boat as well. Fuck – my carelessness.

Bella was a major fucking distraction that I didn't need. Yet, this had all been my doing. She wasn't even interested – well, that wasn't entirely true. She was obviously attracted to me, but denied herself because of her issues. It almost made me wish I could be that guy for her; someone she felt comfortable enough with that she could be touched and made love to. An innocent girl like her deserved that. I wished that we could be normal – for both of us.

Once the Volvo was blood-free, I had nothing to do. Work was out of the question, as I was waiting on lab results before I could proceed with further testing, and it was two more days before I could expect those back. I was essentially in a position to take a mini vacation. After my reaction to today's events, I figured that maybe I needed that.

For a while, I sat in bed and read from a few medical books. Then, curious about Emmett's new case, I flicked on my underused television to watch the news. The story was already being reported nationally.

Apparently, one of the dock workers had let it slip that the girl's faces had been mutilated, and the press had already given Seattle's newest killer a nickname. I almost felt bad for the guy, he didn't get a cool title like Zodiac or The Iceman, no, he'd been dubbed SFK; The Smiley Face Killer. It was almost laughable until I remembered the reason behind the name.

The guy was majorly fucked. Even I didn't torture and mutilate my victims. I simply did what was necessary. Fast and clean, well up until Tanya that is. Thinking of Tanya made me think of her wrapped in plastic and under my knife, and then I couldn't help but replace the image of her with Newton. A sick thrill shot through me.

The more I thought about it, the angrier I became. My bloodlust was raging, and I needed to make sure Newton didn't fuck with Bella. However, I didn't quite trust myself around him at the time. That left me no other option. I was going to tail my new distraction. I only hoped that seeing her, the person she was when she thought no one was looking, would somehow make her lose her appeal.

_** May 1993 **_

_"Close your eyes and focus," Carlisle directed sternly._

_My lashes fluttered shut against the blindfold and I concentrated. Around me, I could sense everything; the smell of Esme's pot roast cooking in the kitchen, Emmett listening to the Beastie Boys in his room and Carlisle's steady inhale and exhale of breath. He was right; cutting off one sense did heighten the others._

_Seconds later his breathing halted. He had moved, of that much I was certain, but to where?_

_My pulse quickened as I tried to pinpoint his location. I stayed stock still, focusing on the fact the he'd have to breathe eventually. When he did, I'd find him, though I should have deduced that before he'd give in to his need to breathe, he would already have me in a choke hold. At least I was able to get out of his grasp - that training had been more successful._

_I also knew he went easy on me. It would have been naïve to think that my 12-year-old body was any match for him._

_"You're getting better, son," he complimented. "When you can detect me, it will be much easier for you to learn to sneak up on me."_

_I was skeptical, but after a few weeks, I was able to anticipate his approach and deflect his hold. Sneaking up on him had been even more difficult, but it wasn't impossible. He was just too aware and always anticipated my approach._

_I had been waiting for the right time. Staying up late at night, listening. Tonight was the night. Esme had made fried chicken for dinner, and as always, made too much. It was Carlisle's favorite, so in the past, any leftovers had disappeared by the next day. _

_Just as I expected, Carlisle stepped softly downstairs heading toward the kitchen and his much anticipated midnight snack. _

_Stealthily, I followed him. _

_I found a dark corner on the other side of the kitchen island to hide until I knew he was fully distracted by his meal. A satisfactory moan escaped his lips as he tore into the cold chicken not even bothering to close the fridge. _

_I had never seen my father act so undignified. I almost laughed aloud, but I couldn't risk missing my opportunity to get to him._

_As he reached for another piece, I knew it was time. I straightened out of my crouch and approached him from behind. I was fully aware of my surroundings, mindful of the objects and furniture nearby, aware of the position of my shadow and of keeping my reflection from showing in the stainless steel of the freezer door._

_I kept waiting for him to still, or his posture to stiffen or tense, but he showed no indication that he detected my presence. As thrilling as it was to simply stand there undetected, I needed to take him in a hold. _

_Quickly I grasped his neck tightly and began to squeeze. His reaction was immediate. He worked his way out of my grasp easily._

_"Christ… son, you scared the shit out of me," he said, eyeing me irritably. _

_I was giddy with excitement over having bested my father._

_"Ha! I got you," I puffed out my chest and began laughing. His face fell, and he looked almost angry._

_"Edward, this isn't a game. I don't like teaching you these things, but I do, for your survival. I am proud that you snuck up on me, but you have to take this seriously. You saw me eating, and you still grabbed my neck. I could have choked, you know," he chastised sternly._

_"Yes sir. I'm sorry," I acknowledged._

The shrill tone of my cell phone ringing broke me from my memory. Was it Bella, could she be in trouble? A nauseating feeling settled itself in my gut over the very idea. I glanced at the phone. Not Bella - Alice.

I spoke to Alice about Bella. It seemed that she had no clue about her new friend's issues, or else I was certain she wouldn't have even suggested her as a possible date for me, so I carefully avoided that subject. It was easier to tell her that we both just agreed to be friends first. Thankfully, she seemed placated by the situation. After speaking to my sister, it seemed obvious that Bella had kept things from her, which was to be expected. They'd only known each other for a few weeks. What was odd was that somehow I ended up knowing more about her first, and that was after only one day.

After we chatted for a while longer about Bella, Alice brought up the Smiley Face Killer victims in Seattle. After everything she'd gone through a few years ago, I knew that it was hard for her to see stuff like that without being reminded of her past, not to mention the fact that I hadn't been there to protect her from it. It made all the more sense why Emmett wanted to keep tabs on guys like Michael Newton. There were monsters out there. I was living proof of that fact.

Needing to be sure all was well, I waited until midnight and then drove by the Swan house. Bella's lights were out, and there was no sign of Newton. I drove back to Seattle to begin the daunting task of cleaning my boat to rid it of any evidence I might have inadvertently left behind.

The next day I was utterly exhausted at work. I had already gone through two cups of coffee and was ready for my third. The sound of a woman sniffling and sobbing broke me out of my drowsiness. The voice was familiar; it was one of my nurses, Jessica, and she was crying to Lauren the receptionist.

"So you were just fooling around and he wanted to keep going?" Lauren asked.

"Uhh, well yeah, we were on my bed and in our underwear, and it was fine, but I didn't want to go any further. He got really mad when I said I wanted to stop," Jessica cried quietly, choking a bit.

"Oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry," Lauren sympathized.

"I don't know what to do. I mean it will be his word against mine…" she trailed off.

_Christ, was she actually discussing being raped?_ The idea was repulsive even to me.

I made my presence known and the girls greeted me before leaving the break room. After getting my coffee, I headed back to the lab. Reminded of my conversation with Emmett, I had an idea of who Jessica was talking about, but I couldn't very well make that assumption, nor could I just outright ask her. I could do a bit of detective work, though.

"Hey Ben?"

"Huh?"

"Do you know if Jessica, the nurse, is seeing anyone?"

"_Alright_, Cullen! It's about time you got your dick wet!"

"Just answer the question."

"I don't think she has a boyfriend, but from what I heard around the office, she was fucking Dr. Meyer."

I was shocked to hear of the possibility that my colleague had been cheating on his wife, much less that he might have raped one of our nurses. My first instinct was that it was Newton, of course, but maybe I was just grasping or straws because I wanted it to be him. It would give me all the more reason to fuck him up.

"Are you sure, Ben?"

"Yeah… Oh shit, I almost forgot. Some guy came up here the other day and brought her some flowers. She and Lauren were talking about how rich he was. Matthew or Marcus, I'm not sure…"

"Michael?"

"Yeah, that's it; Michael."

Fucking figured that it was that asshole. My hands were twitching at the idea of taking him down. I wanted him on my table – badly.

If I let the idea come to fruition, then he would become like all my past conquests. Eventually I'd be planning how to capture him, and then I'd end up fantasizing about dismembering him. He didn't fit The Code, and if I made an exception, then who'd be next – an innocent? My carefully crafted control could only take so much. I had to go about this the right way. I had to protect _her_, and if I didn't, I was certain I'd end up slaughtering Newton.

I knew what I was doing was pretty creepy, but I supposed, to most, it was better than the alternative. Creeping around alleys and dumpsters, lurking in the shadows – this was me on my best behavior – the bad guy playing the good guy. All I needed was a black mask, a cape, and a codpiece.

It was Wednesday, and so far, I'd managed not to stalk Newton. The same couldn't be said for Bella, though.

Her routine had been fairly normal. She returned to the diner for breakfast every morning. I had even considered joining her later in the week, if only to take a break from the stalking. The only deviation was that earlier she'd made a trip to Port Angeles. I watched with rapt attention as she visited every book store in town and then practically cleaned out the art supply store of paint and canvases.

There was no indication that she knew I was there, so from afar, I gave myself permission to appreciate her curves. They were in all the right places, and made me realize that I was… what had Emmett called people with my particular preference? Ahh, yes apparently I was an _ass-man_.

Who would have thought that a fucked up murdering bastard like me could appreciate the female body as much as I was Bella's. She was… _hot_? No, the adjective just didn't fit. I supposed listening to my perverted younger brother degrade women for over a decade had somehow managed to have an effect on me. _Sexy, stunning, beautiful_… yes, Bella was _beautiful_. It sounded right - it fit _her_. The attraction was inexplicable. I hoped that it was just one of those things in which maybe I just wanted something I couldn't have, but somehow I doubted that.

It was a shocking thing; the fact that in the past I had paid so little attention to other women that I hadn't even known what my 'type' was until I was already over thirty. Though, maybe I didn't actually have a type; maybe it was just Bella in particular. It seemed ironic that I'd found the one woman I was sexually attracted to, and she just happened to be untouchable.

I knew I needed to pull my head out of my ass, but I figured focusing on Bella was safer than focusing on Newton. At least for Newton it was.

It was late Thursday night and Bella still hadn't gone to bed. I was tempted to call her, but I thought better of it. I wasn't supposed to know she was still awake.

Stealthily, I made my way around to the rear of her house where I noticed the window open. When I crouched beneath it, I could smell the faintest hint of chemicals - maybe paint thinner. Peaking over the window sill, I realized the room was Bella's studio. I had hoped to see painting upon painting on her walls and in the floor, but there was only one painting, and I was struggling to see it.

Bella was there just standing in front of a canvas, her body obscuring it from my line of sight. As much as I appreciated the healthy curve of her bottom, I still wanted a good look at her painting. It almost felt like she was hiding it from me, until I remembered that I was the intruder, but I couldn't let that stop me from sating my curiosity.

The late hour must have caught up with her, because moments later she was arching her back in a stretch, and I could hear her yawning. I watched with rapt attention as she stepped back from the canvas, but she still was still in front of it. I could only see part of it, though. The only part I could make out was what appeared to be an outline of a masculine jaw covered with light stubble.

Something caught her attention, and she looked toward the other side of the room where I couldn't see.

"Hey, Jake," she greeted through another yawn.

_No answer._

"You ready to go to bed? I know I am," she cooed sleepily.

_No answer. Who the fuck is Jake and why the fuck is she asking him to go to bed with her? _

"You like my new painting?" she questioned.

_Still, no answer. Is this guy mute?_

"He's beautiful, isn't he?" she sighed sadly.

A whining sound came from the direction Bella had been speaking, and she laughed – cue the newly familiar and inexplicable fluttering in my stomach.

"Alright, Alright, I'll take you out and then we'll go to bed," she placated.

Before I could even try to get a glimpse of Jake, she moved away from the painting, almost as if in slow motion.

The first thing my mind deduced was that there was a large mirror shining my reflection back on me. Quickly, that thought was tossed aside when I realized that Bella had, in fact, been painting me. What had she said? _You like my new painting?_ _He's beautiful, isn't he?_ Was that what she thought of me?

I couldn't seem to wrap my head around all the thoughts, ideas, and fucking _feelings_ swelling up inside. "What are you doing to me?" I groaned aloud, knowing she wasn't in hearing range.

Before I could ponder it further, the back door opened about fifteen feet from where I was standing. I had to hide quickly. The woods were a straight shot and unless she immediately looked in my direction she wouldn't see me. I made a run for it.

Thankfully, Bella must have turned in the opposite direction because she was nowhere in sight. After a few minutes, I began to hear her coming from the front of the house. She was talking to 'Jake the mute,' I supposed. The idea she could speak so casually to this other man made me feel insane. Could he touch her, and why the hell did that idea make my blood boil?

My fists were clenched at my sides as her silhouette appeared from the front yard. She wasn't alone. There was no mute mystery man, but a dog – a large wolf-like dog.

I wanted to reach out and run my fingers through her silky hair, but there were so many reasons why I couldn't. If I was going to continue scrutinizing my strange behavior, then I wondered why the hell I even wanted to touch it in the first place?

"Goddamnit!" Bella shouted, startling me from my thoughts.

"Fuck, Jake. That was the biggest pile of dog shit I've ever seen, and I still somehow managed to step in it," she joked irritably.

Well… hell. I was an idiot. My jealousy was blatantly obvious to me when it was no longer blinding me with anger. I wasn't sure that I'd ever been jealous of anything before in my life, but I was intelligent enough to recognize it when I felt it.

Bella cursing and unceremoniously dragging her shoe in the grass had me biting my lip to suppress the laughter that was rumbling in my chest.

Once she returned inside, I was able to think clearly again. I had sense enough to realize that the emotions she was awakening in me were both astonishing and dangerous. I needed to stay away from Bella. I decided then that I would continue to follow her and make sure Newton left her alone, but that was it. The previous idea of joining her at the diner was abandoned, and at this point, I wasn't even sure that it was in her best interest that I even try to be her friend.

What were her words at my parent's dinner party? _I'm no good for you, Edward._ Well, it seemed that statement went both ways.

I continued throughout the remainder of the week as normal. I'd heard nothing from Bella. Alice was on my case about some hospital benefit in a few weeks that she insisted I invite Bella to, and Emmett had called to give me updates on the SFK murders. He had been kind enough to lay out all the details; the grit and the gore that even the media wasn't privy to.

It was more than a morbid curiosity for me. His modus operandi was both creative and intriguing. Though his method was the complete opposite of mine, I wondered what it would be like to dispatch my victims using his methods. Strangely, at the same time, I wanted to both literally and figuratively pick his brain. It was a bit difficult to reconcile the two ideas.

Emmett had called during the week to say that Jessica had reported Newton to the police and that there was a warrant for his arrest, but he hadn't been taken in yet. When questioned, his parents had claimed he was camping in Alaska with some college buddies, and wouldn't be back for several days. I knew I had to watch Bella more diligently as Newton was now on the run and there was no telling what he might do in his desperation. I was both relieved and disappointed to learn that I might not be the one to punish him for his crimes.

Bella still hadn't called. I knew she and Alice had an AA meeting. I ended up following her home to make sure she wasn't being tailed by anyone other than me. Normally, I would have kept on driving and then doubled back when she turned on the road to her house, but I hadn't been thinking clearly. Before I could stop myself I turned with her. Fuck. I did a quick three-point-turn, hoping she hadn't noticed.

To be safe, when all was clear I turned around again and parked at the end of her road with my lights off. The street lamps provided just enough visibility that I could monitor her house at a safe distance until the lights were out.

Logically, I knew that I could sit safe and sound in my little car for a few hours, drive home to sleep for a while, and then come back to make sure their hadn't been any more encounters like at the diner. Where Bella was concerned, all logic was out the window, along with my emotionlessness and self-control. That was why I found myself running across Bella's yard to hide in the trees facing her window. It was as if I were some kind of fucked up Romeo or something.

Only a minute after I'd made it to the tree line I heard a noise. My sudden fear that Newton had somehow gotten past me was only intensified when my phone suddenly vibrated in my pocket. _Bella_. Not considering where I was and who might see the blue glow of my phone's backlight, I answered the call in a panic. It seemed safe to assume, since she hadn't previously used my number for casual conversation, that she was in trouble.

"Bella… Bella? What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Silence.

"Bella, what's going on?" I ran toward the house, all the while deciding how I was going to get to her.

"_Edward…_" I stopped as relief flooded my veins. _"…are you… umm… in my backyard?_" My blood turned cold. She could see the light from my fucking cell phone. I was even more of an idiot than I'd given myself credit for.

What could I say? She wasn't stupid. I couldn't deny it.

"Edward?"

"Yes." Before she had the chance to curse me or call the police, I hung up and walked dejectedly back to my car. I could hardly wrap my head around the possible repercussions my mistake could cause me. At the very least, I might be slapped with a restraining order. Alice would be devastated and my family humiliated. Not to mention the hit the clinic would take when people learned that one of its doctors had been stalking their beloved police chief's grieving daughter, who was a famous artist no less.

There was no denying it. I had to do damage control. In my current panicked state of mind, I was in no position to try.

Once I'd made it back to my car, my phone beeped through with new voicemail. It didn't take a genius to know who'd left it.

_Edward, I want to talk to you. Please return my call. I'm not mad, if that's what you're worried about. I'm sure you have a good reason for being in my yard_… I scoffed… _and even if you don't, I still want to talk. So… um please, if you can, call me back anytime, or meet me at the diner in the morning at eight. Just don't… don't shut me out. I enjoy your company, and I still want to be friends, if that's okay._

Fuck, she hadn't even sounded mad. If anything, she sounded nervous and hopeful. How the hell was I supposed to stay away from her?

On the way home I kept nodding off. At one point, I turned the radio up high and rolled the windows down. With heavy lids, I trudged through the door to my apartment and slipped into bed.

Sunlight was rare in Forks, so imagine my surprise when I awoke to the glaring brightness of it shining directly on my face. I fumbled for my cell phone, wondering how much longer I could sleep before it was time to meet Bella at 8:00 a.m. for breakfast.

_8:45 a.m._

Holy shit, I was late. I debated grabbing a shower but opted to skip it, deciding that Bella would rather me be there and scruffy than to not be there at all. I threw on a casual t-shirt and jeans, assuming the extra seconds it would take to button a dress shirt might mean I'd miss her and lose the opportunity to make things right.

The sun brought with it warmth in the usually frigid October air, so it didn't seem so bad that I'd forgotten my jacket.

The road to the diner was mostly clear of traffic, so I was able to drive faster than usual. I breathed a sigh of relief when the diner's parking lot came in to view. Bella was still there.

The place was busy so I had to park at the end of the lot. The moment I locked my car, I heard the twinkling sound of the diner door opening. She was leaving. Shit, I'd fucked up, but maybe it wasn't too late.

I flinched momentarily when I saw her stumble on thin air. I fully expected her to take a fall before I would have the chance to get to her, but she somehow managed to right herself, only to drop her keys in the process. The word _adorable_, unbidden, flashed through my mind, and I inwardly cringed.

It wasn't until I was a mere fifteen feet from her that I heard the blood curdling screech of tires. I had been so wrapped up in being amused by Bella's clumsiness that I hadn't noticed the baby blue BMW parked behind some dumpsters. From the angle the car was facing, Bella's car was right in his line of sight.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion as I felt a burst of adrenaline course through my veins. Every bone, muscle, and tendon worked overtime, pushing me towards my _Bella_. _She was_ _mine. I had to protect_ _her_.

In seconds she was in my arms. Deafening silence followed by a sickening crunch were the only sounds that filled my ears.

* * *

A/N

I would love to hear everyones thoughts on 'SFK', how Bella will react to being saved by Edward, as well as thoughts on why Mike Newton has suddenly gone homicidal...

It awards season, and much to my surprise Confessions of a Serial Killer has been recognized by The Shimmer Awards as a nominee in the Blood Award category for Best Horror. I would like to thank those who nominated this story as well as Confessions of a Love Sick Geek for the Outtake Award for Best Comedy and Undisclosed Desires for The Quickie Award for best O/S and a Golden Lemon for Best Group Sex.

I would absolutely love to win but simply being nominated was honor enough for me!

Also, for my Confessions of a Love Sick Geek readers, I apologize that there hasn't been an update for a while. That is certainly next on my agenda. I intend to update by the end of the week. The reason it isn't written yet is due to the fact I have been working on my High Times Anonymous Contest submission hosted by Yogagal and AngstGoddess003. Please head over and check out all the lovely stories. When all the stories are posted, I'd love to hear your ideas on which one you guys think is mine.

Thanks again and I wish everyone a happy Valentines Day!


	9. Heroic

**Edward Cullen: Confessions of a Serial Killer ****~SoapyMayhem**

Thanks to my beta Twimarti!

**Disclaimer**: Twilight, Dexter, and all publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of t he author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Warning **This story contains violence, language, and non-sensational depictions of rape and sexual abuse. Rated M for a reason. ***This chapter does contain a brief description of sexual abuse.**

* * *

**Chapter 9 **Heroic****

***~Bella Swan~***

**Save Me by Aimee Mann**

_C'mon and save meWhy don't you save meIf you could save meFrom the ranks of the freaksWho suspect they could never love anyoneExcept the freaksWho suspect they could never love anyoneExcept the freaks who could never love anyone_

****October 23, 2009****

Warmth, safety, silence, strong arms - cradling me.

I relaxed into the body I was pressed against, and inhaled the spicy scent swirling in the air around me.

Sandalwood, masculine, leather, soap, and musk - comforting me.

I looked up into the glaring sunlight waiting for my eyes to focus.

Emerald green, bronze, pale skin, straight perfect lines, thick brows, and dark lips speaking my name over and over.

_Was I shaking? _I wasn't certain.

_Had I not answered him? _

I blinked a few times.

I was disoriented - dizzy.

I was in Edward's arms.

_Was he calling my name? _

Edward was holding me.

I wasn't fighting it.

_Why did it feel so natural - so right?_

I was almost certain that I what I was experiencing had to have been some type of trauma induced delusion - it wouldn't have been the first time.

A large, warm hand cupped my face gently, and I could hear my name being spoken so softly that I barely heard it. _Edward_. It was the sound of man cursing loudly that broke through my hazy bubble of wonder, and severed my connection to Edward's green gaze.

His features, once soft and worried, turned predatory almost feral. His grasp on my arms tightened almost painfully, as he crushed my body protectively to his hard chest. In my shock, I hadn't known how long I'd been in his grasp. I hadn't answered him, because I was afraid to break the spell. I felt content in his arms, even though he was hanging on to me, shielding me as if he were a dog protecting his bone

Edward looked back into my eyes and his features seemed to relax a bit, and then opened his mouth as if to say something, but was interrupted.

"Dr. Cullen, are you alright?" I heard an older feminine voice ask him worriedly. I was both relieved and a bit affronted that she hadn't seemed concerned with me - the barely conscious woman wrapped in the handsome doctor's arms.

"I'll be fine. Let's just make sure _he _doesn't run off before the police arrive," Edward spoke calmly, masking the venomous anger I sensed was bubbling under the surface.

Once I began to become more aware of my surroundings, I heard several people asking if I was alright, or if I was 'that Swan girl'. I couldn't think to answer as their voices were being drowned out by the sight a few large men - truckers by the looks of them - who were physically restraining Mike Newton. He was shouting and fighting to get away.

I turned my attention to his car and couldn't help the choking sob that escaped my lips when I saw how deeply it was imbedded into the side of my own vehicle. It appeared as though half of my beautiful car had been smashed in, fucking asshole.

_Why did he have to go and fuck up my car like that?_

Realization struck - he wasn't trying to hit my car. It was me, and Edward must have just been in the right place at the right time. He practically swooped down and saved me as if he were my own personal guardian angel.

"Were you following me?" I asked hoarsely. Screaming had caused my throat to ache.

Edward's eyes snapped to mine. A range of emotion swept over his angelic face - relief, frustration, curiosity, confusion, and then amusement.

"I wasn't following you. I was invited, remember?" he reminded with a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Oh… yeah… hey, I waited on you for a long time," I chided meekly.

"Well, I guess it's a good thing I showed up when I did," he chuckled. His amusement was surprising, considering the events that had just occurred. Then he looked pensive suddenly, as if he'd heard my thoughts.

"Edward?" I asked quietly.

"Yes?"

"You saved me."

"I suppose I did," he chuckled darkly.

"Umm… is Mike going to go to jail?"

"Definitely."

"Umm…"

"Umm - what?"

"Umm, you're umm… holding me…" I replied anxiously, as though acknowledging the miracle that was happening would make it go away. The feeling of being wrapped in his protective arms was indescribable. I didn't want it to end.

"Shit! I'm sorry… are you okay? Are you panicking or… are you… okay?" he sputtered loosening his tight grip on me.

"Fine… I'm… I'm actually fine…" I replied in amazement. His eyes widened and I felt him tighten his grasp again, pulling me harder to his chest.

He seemed to sense our surroundings and the prying eyes of the crowd we'd drawn. It was obvious that we couldn't stay in this position forever. He sighed and reluctantly began to loosen his hold on me.

"Do you think you can stand?" he asked in concerned tone that caught me off guard.

"I think so," I muttered uncertainly. My body was quite sore, and I assumed that some kind of trauma had occurred when I tensed to brace myself for the impact of the vehicle, only to be sideswiped by Edward instead.

My muscles protested from the effort it took to stand, while my body protested over the loss of Edward's warmth and comfort. I wanted to grab onto him and wrap my legs around his waist and thank him properly for what he'd done. Before I had a chance to embarrass myself by voicing my needs, Edward stood wincing in pain. I glanced down to his legs only to see that part of his pants had been shredded and were soaked in blood.

"Oh my God, you're hurt," I shouted and moved to kneel in front of him to access the damage. My hands fluttered around his injuries, never touching for fear of causing him pain. I felt helpless.

"Bella, don't, its fine - just a pair of skinned knees, nothing some Neosporin and a few bandages won't mend," he assured me with a barely masked grimace.

He sounded certain, but there was so much blood. I glanced at him skeptically, but he simply held his ground and moved to assist me back to my feet. I wrung my hands together not knowing what to do with them.

When I heard the sounds of sirens and the police cruiser pull up near us, I took a surreptitious glance toward Mike. He was injured - I could tell by the blood on his forehead, though I wasn't sure if that had been caused from fighting the truckers or the accident.

I pondered the expression on his face. I was expecting rage, but now it was only fear that marred his deceptively innocent - albeit bloody, boy-next-door baby-face.

I couldn't help the smug look I gave him as the officer read his rights.

_What the fuck had he expected to happen? _

Idiot.

A couple of ambulances arrived, one for Edward and I, and the other for Mike, who traveled with an officer. I imagined that they couldn't take him to jail yet with the gash on his head. I sincerely hoped the fucker had brain damage.

Edward sat beside me in the ambulance, and I couldn't help but notice the confused looks he kept shooting to our joined hands. I was too busy relishing the new feeling of comfort to make mention of his behavior.

Laying helpless on a gurney with a neck brace on made me regret telling the EMT about my slight neck pain. I tried to refuse it, but Edward had insisted, giving me a pointed look that said 'don't fuck with me, I'm a doctor'.

I was grateful though when the same EMT insisted on checking out Edward's injured knees as well. Though, I had to turn away when she cut the shredded fabric of his ruined pants. I didn't like the idea of Edward being in pain.

The ride to the hospital was short and by the time we had arrived, Edward informed that there were already a couple reporter's from the local press standing out front. I mean, I knew it was a small town, but I hadn't expected to have to deal with reporters over the incident.

"Edward, I don't want to talk to them. Would you mind keeping them away?" I asked nervously.

"Of course, but be prepared, because we will have to talk to the police," he reminded softly.

"Yeah… I guess I kind of figured that. I just don't understand why this is such a big deal to the freaking _paparazzi _though," I grumbled petulantly. I hated being seen as a victim, though there were worse things people could consider me. I had to remind myself not to think of _that _time. This was nothing like _that_.

"For one thing, you are probably the biggest celebrity to ever come to Forks…" he teased. I scoffed at his words. "…and as for Newton, he's used all his 'Get Out of Jail Free' cards."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked confused.

"I may have had Emmett do a little background check on Newton after last week at the diner, and thank fuck I did," he chuckled humorlessly.

"Oh… so what… has he been involved another hit and run before?" I asked appalled that he might have hurt someone else.

"Not exactly… He's been accused of sexual assault a few times, but it never stuck. It would seem that his family's wealth always got him out of it -" he clarified until I interrupted.

"He… he… he's a _rapist_?" I asked barely able to hold myself together from the onslaught of memories. For a split second an image of Mike putting his perverted hands on me in the grocery store parking lot flashed in my mind, but then changed and went in a direction I really didn't want it to go.

_The taste of copper blood on my tongue from biting it to fight the urge to scream, the acrid stench of sweat from _him _that mixed with rotten fish from a nearby dumpster, the cold steel of the gun as it slid into my panties, and the mind numbing sound that it made when the shot fired into the darkness. _

NO!

Not while I'm awake!

_Control yourself!_

"Bella…. _Bella_? Answer me. Are you okay?" Edward pleaded worriedly.

I could only imagine how I must have looked on the verge of panic attack.

_He probably thinks you're a freak_ - though he was the one who was hanging around my house like a stalker in the middle of the night.

I reminded myself to ask him about that the next time we were alone.

Just because he saved my life didn't mean he wouldn't have to give me an explanation. I only hoped that when the time came, I wouldn't have to force it out of him.

"I'm sorry. I'm okay now. I…," I trailed off struggling for the right words to say, because I didn't know how to explain my reaction in any way other than telling the horrific truth.

_There was no way I was ready for that_.

oooo

It wasn't long after we arrived that Edward informed me that Alice and Esme had shown up and were going to give us a ride to the police station, and afterward, take me home.

I wanted to think that they only came for Edward, but I had a feeling they were there for me just as much. It warmed my cold, black heart a little bit.

"Oh, my God, Bella. I was so worried. Are you okay?" Alice shrieked with panic lacing her musical voice as Edward and I entered the waiting room.

"I'm fine now, just a bit sore. Though, I don't think I would have come out so well had Edward not been there to save me," I assured her and gave an appreciative glance in Edward's direction.

"My hero," I cooed to him jokingly, in a faux-southern accent.

I had expected him to look proud, or embarrassed, or maybe even shrug off my compliment in a humble manner. What I hadn't expected was the look of irritation that marred his lovely face. With furrowed brows, he cleared his throat and excused himself before walking off. Alice hadn't seem to notice his clipped tone and proceeded to fuss over me as I pretended to listen, giving only short, half-hearted answers.

By the time Alice, Esme, and I made it to the exit, Edward had Esme's car waiting for us at the curb and was shooing away the reporters who were trying to interrogate me. His concern for me, despite the obvious fact that something I'd said had upset him, made me confused. Though, it hadn't made me any less grateful. I was about to be interrogated enough as it was, because our next stop was the police station.

oooo

I had never been looked at with so much pity, as I had in the presence of my late father's former co-workers. They hadn't been this bad at the funeral.

It seemed like the entire police force had felt it necessary to comment on how alike my father and I looked, or what a great man he was, or the fact that had he been alive, he would have seriously murdered Newton for what he'd done to me.

The comments were a bit much and only served to bring up old memories. I pushed the thoughts aside and tried to focus on giving an accurate description of the diner incident.

I was thankful that they let me answer their questions with Edward in the room. He'd been especially helpful at putting together the parts that I missed.

When I was asked if I knew why Newton wanted to hurt me, I knew I'd have to recount that incident as well. Edward's jaw was set tight, lips in a hard line, and his knuckles turned an angry shade of white as I described - in detail - the original altercation from the parking lot. He only seemed to relax when I described how I'd 'defended' myself.

Edward and several officers cringed at the mention of my kneeing Newton in the balls.

I was ready for it all to be over with. It was difficult rehashing those details. Though, compared to the last time I'd been required to give a statement, this was a piece of cake. I couldn't think of that time though, if I let my mind wander, I'd be chucked in an asylum for acting like the disturbed individual that I was.

My fingers were restlessly tapping against the arm of the chair.

I had only had his arms wrapped around me for maybe half an hour and his hand for a few minutes in the ambulance, but I missed his touch. He was the first man in years to touch me without eliciting a panic or defensive response. It had been glorious, so I couldn't help but be disappointed that he hadn't offered me his hand again.

This was insane. I needed to talk to him.

oooo

When we were finally done giving our statements, Edward started to head toward the exit. Before Alice and Esme were in earshot, I called his name.

"Edward, wait."

He turned, eyeing me warily.

"I…" the words lodged in my throat.

Something in my expression must have gotten to him because quickly his tense demeanor melted into the same concerned face that I'd gazed upon in the diner parking lot. He moved closer towards me.

"Is there something you need?" he asked softly.

_Yes, you. _

"Umm… Do you think we could you know… talk. I mean it doesn't have to be tonight. I am sure your exhausted, and it doesn't even have to be tomorrow, just when you aren't busy. I know since you're an important doctor you are busy all the time and-" I rambled, but thankfully Edward cut off my word vomit.

"Bella, it's okay," he chuckled amused "is tomorrow night okay?"

I blushed and cleared my throat. "Yes, that would be great."

"Okay then, at the diner?" he asked.

"You could come over to my house. I'll make us something-" I blurted not realizing that I'd made our meeting sound like a date.

"Err the diner is fine though if you want…" I backtracked anxiously.

"Your house sounds fine, Bella. In fact it's probably best that we don't have this conversation in public anyway."

"Alright." I gave him a shy smile, though on the inside I was ecstatic. I was already planning what to make for dinner.

oooo

After the excruciatingly long day, I simply wanted to sleep.

I sighed when Jake curled up beside me.

"You're not the only boy who can touch me now, Jake." I said smiling like an idiot at the oblivious dog.

_The air is humid. I can still taste the coppery blood on my tongue. _

"_On your knees slut,' he rasped. I hesitate too long and feel the sting of his gun against the back of my head. I oblige quickly after that. _

_Rocks and garbage, maybe even glass dig into my bare knees under the pressure of my weight. _

_Roughly he grabs me and rips my panties from my body. My face is wet with tears, but I don't make a sound. _

_He uses the arch of my back for balance, lays the gun at my side, as his free hand fumbles at his belt._

_Seeing an opportunity, I move to reach for it, but it disappears. _

_I look frantically. _

_In front of me stands a man. His knees are bloody, they match mine. Before I can see his face, I see steel wrapped around the black hole of the gun barrel._

_It fires._

_oooo  
_

"I need a ride, are you busy today?" I ask Alice then yawn over my steaming coffee. I'd slept poorly the night before.

"No, I'm not busy, and Jasper and Emmett are staying in the city most of the week working on a big case. So I have the whole day free, but are you sure you should be going out. I mean do you feel up for it?" she asked worriedly.

"I have to admit, I feel pretty sore, but that's all the more reason to keep moving. If I lay around all day, I'll only feel worse. Besides, I don't think you'll want to miss what I have planned today," I said through a grin.

I was thankful for my highly disposable income. It afforded me the luxury of buying a new car outright and having the insurance company reimburse me for the damaged vehicle. So when I mentioned car shopping, Alice squealed excitedly.

"The closest Audi dealership is in Seattle-" I began but Alice cut me off.

"Seattle! Bella we can't…" she gasped worriedly.

I'd heard about the serial killer that was on the loose, and yeah what he'd done to those woman was pretty fucking terrifying, but we were just going car shopping, and maybe even grab a bite to eat. Alice sounded pretty anxious so I came up with a plan.

"If we go, we could see if Jasper, and maybe Emmett and Rosalie would like to meet us for lunch," I suggested hopefully. I figured that since Jasper hadn't been home since Thursday and it was now Sunday, that she'd want to see him. _I mean, what were the chances that we'd run into an actual serial killer? _

The odds were probably even lower because of my recent run-ins with death - unless I was just some kind of danger magnet.

"Yeah… okay, but only if I get to see Jazz." I could hear her fear slowly fading to reluctance then to excitement.

"Deal."

Jasper was thrilled to be able to see Alice after their time apart, but was only able to get away because Emmett was covering for him.

I wasn't really interested in being the third wheel, so after we enjoyed our lunch, I walked around a nearby department store and gave them some privacy.

Jasper insisted I text them every few minutes to let them know I was okay. It seemed a bit drastic to me, but I obliged.

After about forty-five minutes Alice texted me to let me know that Jasper was about to leave. They were exchanging tearful goodbyes when I found them. I felt bad for Alice, I knew she wanted to be near Jasper, but just couldn't take the stress and danger of city life. I could easily relate.

The trip to the Audi dealership went well. They ended up having an A5 Quattro in the exact shade of blue that I'd wanted, and I could see Alice salivating over a TT model roadster in black. I knew she was itching to trade hers in but didn't citing petulantly, that big decisions like that were made with Jasper.

Overall the day had been fun. It was just what I'd needed to help me keep my mind off yesterday's events as well as my impending conversation with Edward.

I drove my new car off the lot and parted ways with Alice.

On the way home I stopped to pick up a few groceries so I could make something half-way decent for Edward and I to eat when he came over.

It was around seven when I arrived and Edward was coming over at eight. It didn't give me time to relax, but I'd had just enough time to cook. I popped a few steaks and some asparagus on the indoor grill and a couple of potatoes in the oven. It was a pretty simple meal, but I didn't want to look like I went to too much effort. This wasn't a date.

I was pulling the potatoes out of the oven when I heard the doorbell ring.

Flushed with excitement, I straightened out my clothes and fluffed my hair a bit, and then opened the door.

"Good evening Bella," Edward murmured and gave me the sexiest little half smile I'd ever seen.

Fuck, but he was delicious.

This was going to be a long night.

oooo

* * *

A/N

So what do you guys think Edward and Bella will talk about?

Next chapter is EPOV. There will be more on the SFK killer, and his conversation with Bella.

Sorry the update rook so long. I am trying to get Losing It finished then I will get back to my regular posting schedule of every other week. Next chapter to post will be an update for **Losing It**, then **Edward Cullen: Confessions of a Love Sick Geek**.

I have also posted a teaser chapter of a new fic I am working on called '**Violaine**' - After a bad break-up Bella needs a temporary distraction. She finds it in a mysterious masked man at her college Halloween party. What began as a means to distraction, left Bella with more than she bargained for. No names. No faces. AH E/B There will be Lemons!

Please review and let me know what you think!


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